


War Torn

by splashpotions



Category: Dream SMP Fandom, DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angry Wilbur Soot, Angst, DSMP AU, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Spoilers, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Lmanburg, War, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, about the dsmp characters not the actual ccs, arguments n shit, but really they care about each other, dream smp au, l'manberg, tommy and wilbur are farm boys, tubbo lives on a farm too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28790523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splashpotions/pseuds/splashpotions
Summary: The story of two brothers, together yet alone in dealing with their new dreadful misfortune.King Dream, the ruler of a powerful empire, was not accustomed to people defying his laws. Dream is shocked to the core when a fiery and devoted farmboy, by the name of Tommy Watson, refuses to accept the fate of his father being sent to war. Tommy is among the first to fearlessly oppose the king, and he doesn’t let his age or poor background hinder his remarkable passions. Nothing can restrain the young boy from hatching and implementing his numerous plots to take back what he's lost… Well, almost nothing.There was one thing that played on his conscience, gnawing away at his arrogance bit by bit: the thought of disappointing his older brother. Wilbur had made a promise to Phil to keep his chaotic brother out of trouble while he’s away at war. Will Tommy be able to get Wilbur in on his plans, when he’s so set against wreaking havoc? Or will his rash and dangerous decisions continue to tear the brothers apart?Broken promises,Impulsive plotting,And one power-hungry king.(or, dsmp au where Phil gets sent to war and Wilbur is left to take care of Tommy - it all goes to shit pretty quickly)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & TommyInnit, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s), Sapnap & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	1. Conscription

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for clicking on this! Just wanted to clarify a few things before you read 
> 
> This fic is loosely inspired by some events of the SMP, specifically stuff up to the L'Manburg revolution. It's not set in the minecraft world though.
> 
> All the characters are based off the SMP characters and not the actual people!
> 
> The setting is a medieval town because I thought it would fit with the theme
> 
> I've been working really hard on this and I've already planned every chapter! I also try update at least once a week
> 
> This is my first time writing a fic with these characters, so I'm sorry if anything's a little ooc
> 
> Any art featured in this is my own
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> ty bella for helping me out with this ily brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family of three recieve some terrible news that they struggle to digest.

**Act I**

It was a sunny day in the height of summer. A young boy, who looked around fourteen, was sat cross-legged in the grass. The midday sun lit up his light blond hair and he lifted up his hand to shield his eyes. He laid down, exasperated by his intense boredom. The boy plucked a blade of grass from the ground and twirled it around in his fingers. After laying still for a few moments, he placed both his hands in the grass and lifted himself to his feet. He dusted the dirt from his back and was unsurprised to notice it was so dry it didn’t leave any marks. It hadn’t rained for several weeks and the field was withered and parched, forming a layer of orange-brown tinge instead of its usual green. Needless to say the harvest had been poor that year and money was scarce. 

The boy turned towards the farmhouse and considered going inside to shelter from the blazing heat. Then he remembered why he had been sent outside, his brother and dad were having a “serious” conversation, as they’d put it. Frustrated from the heat and boredom, he sighed, collapsing on the ground. He closed his eyes to take a nap to pass the time, listening to the faint bird chirping in the distance. 

A short while later the boy jolted awake to the sound of horse hooves hitting the gravel path. He quickly scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping. His family lived in a small farm on the outskirts of the town and they very rarely got visitors, so naturally this piqued the boy’s interest. He had to hold himself back from running up to the two guests, who had clambered out of their cart and approached the front door. He waited for them to enter the house before making his way down the path, now so distracted by the impromptu visit that he almost forgot he was supposed to be staying outside. He edged towards the rotting wood of the screen door, trying his best to hide round the corner.

“...Phil Watson, is it?...” said an unfamiliar voice.

The boy heard his father confirm. 

“...Sir, as you know, this is a particular time of unrest for the empire...” the voice continued. 

“Unrest for the empire?” the boy muttered to himself under his breath. Surely this couldn’t be what he thought it was about. Phil had lived in this country for all thirty-seven years of his life and managed to avoid going to war. He always told his sons being a farmer provided some sort of immunity from it, as it meant he was needed in the homeland. 

“The nation is in need of more help…” the voice trailed off. The boy inched closer to the door frame, trying to hear more of the conversation. 

“Sir please, you can’t make him leave! What about me? What about my brother? We can't survive on our own,” spoke the familiar tones of his brother’s voice, laced with panic.

Hearing this, the boy flung open the flimsy door and ran into the house. His eyes darted around the room until they met with Phil’s. He was sitting on the sofa, dread causing him to sink further into his seat. His eyes, usually sparked with joy, were now wrought with fear. 

“Tommy-” his father started.

“W-what’s going on?” The boy asked in a broken, shaky voice. His heart pounding in his chest and his breath uneven.

“There’s been an outbreak of multiple new wars, Dream is trying to make the empire more powerful. We didn’t want to do this, but we need a stronger army. So we’re gathering up farmers and miners now too. Your father’s being drafted, it’s his time to serve for the country,” One of the men spoke, his tone cold and matter-of-fact.

These words echoed through Tommy's mind, they felt like a million heavy weights pressing against his skull. Time stopped momentarily and his whole body froze, feet anchored to the ground, unable to move his lips to produce a response. His ears were ringing as though a thousand wasps were trapped in his eardrums, desperately trying to free themselves. The man’s words were still swimming through his consciousness, spreading through every corner of his mind like a parasite. Minutes that felt like hours passed and he was still stuck feeling helpless. Eventually he used what little energy hadn’t yet been drained from him to bring himself back to reality.

“WHAT? No, no, no, you can’t do that!” Tommy shouted, the panic in his voice elevating rapidly.

The other man walked towards him, placing a hand on his left shoulder in a feeble attempt to comfort him, “hey, hey calm down boy. Think of this as a good thing! Fighting for your country is a very noble duty.” 

“A good thing? What about this is GOOD?” Tommy responded, as he flung his arm batting the man’s hand away from his shoulder, “don’t. Touch. Me.” His panic quickly transformed into sickening rage and he wanted nothing more than to scream at and hit the guy. By this point he had begun to shake violently with fury, feverish emotions bubbling up through his entire body. His eye was twitching and his fists clenched into a tight ball.

His brother could see the clear and conspicuous anger in Tommy’s eyes. He recognised this look instantly. He grabbed his arm and pulled him outside.

“Tommy. Tommy…” He started. The boy's eyes were still darting around, restless. “Tommy look at me,” he said. His voice was demanding but comforting.

“Wilbur-” Tommy was cut off.

“No. Listen to me, please,” he interrupted, placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “I know you’re angry Tommy, very rightfully so. But there’s nothing we can do about it. So please just pretend for now that we’re gonna be okay. We don’t want dad to leave feeling worried about us, okay?”

“But Wilbur It’s not gonna be okay! Surely you see that right? We’re gonna have to take care of the farm, and each other, and dad won’t be here, and, and-” Tommy said, spiralling further and further into his dread.

“I know, but we’ll figure all that out later yeah? Please just don’t do this now, all this is already hard enough for dad as it is, let's not make it worse,” Wilbur spoke, trying his best to stabilise his voice and remain calm.

Tommy paused for a moment before reluctantly responding, “okay. You’re right.”

Wilbur pulled his brother into a tight hug. Tears were forming in his eyes and he had to keep blinking furiously to make them disappear. He couldn’t let Tommy see he was crying. He had to stay strong for him. He told him everything was going to be okay, but inside he was struggling to figure out how they were going to cope on their own. Wilbur was only seventeen. He had done a great deal of growing up in the years following their mother’s death, but he didn’t think he was ready for the responsibility of taking care of Tommy and the farm on his own. Eventually he released Tommy from his arms, wiping away his tears before he could notice them.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Wilbur said. He grabbed Tommy’s hand and squeezed it slightly for reassurance before leading them both back into the house.

Phil was still sitting on the sofa. His head sunk into his hands and his shoulders globed. He heard the door gently latch open and looked up at his two sons.

The two government officials were now stood up and ready to leave. One of them stopped at the door and turned to Phil to say, “Make sure to be at the castle by 5pm, that's when the troop will be leaving.”

Just as they were leaving Tommy mumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for them to hear, “bitch.”

Both of them shot him a glare of disgust that said “He’s got a fucking nerve this one.” But they didn't want to waste their time arguing so they promptly left. Now it was just the three of them again. The intruders were gone. 

“Hey, come sit with me,” Phil spoke softly, gesturing to the space on the sofa beside him, “I have to leave soon and we need to say our goodbyes.”

“Y-you don’t have to go dad. Let’s run away! Yeah, yeah we can do that. We can just run away! Then you won’t have to leave,” Tommy blurted, a crazed look plastered on his face. 

“Tommy…” Phil spoke, his brows furrowing and eyes filled with a mix of pain and love. He only said his name but he didn’t have to say any more for Tommy to understand.

“Don’t leave…” the young boy said quietly. He was still persisting but just barely. He remembered his brother’s words, and decided not to keep pressing. The whirlwind of his anger and panic settled into sadness. 

“I have to, but I’ll try my best to make it back here safe. You and Wilbur can take care of the farm while I’m away and then when I return things will be just as they were, It’ll almost be like I never left,” Phil assured. His face softened into a weak smile as he continued, “wait here, I’ve got something to give you.” 

Phil stood up, made his way towards the attic entrance and used the butt old broom to lift open the latch releasing the ladder. Once in the attic, he scanned the room until he caught a glimpse of a shiny silver box hidden beneath a pile of dusty books. He pushed aside the books and carefully carried the box down the ladder, making sure not to fall on his way down. Phil was only 37, but he already wasn’t as strong as he used to be and the solid metal of the box made it difficult to carry. 

Once down, Phil returned to the seat beside his sons and placed the box on the coffee table in front of them. He gently blew away the layer of dust collected on the surface of the box, forming a temporary grey cloud. Tommy was waiting eagerly on the edge of his seat for the box’s contents to be revealed. He watched as his father delicately slid open the latch and lifted up the box’s lid. Phil looked at the boy to see his reaction as he peered into the box. A loving smile formed on his face as he noticed a flicker of joy in his son’s eyes. 

“Discs? Are these really for me?” Tommy asked excitedly. Phil nodded. “Woah,” he exclaimed, delighted to have some additions to his collection. Tommy had been collecting music discs since he was 7 years old and he was still as enthusiastic as ever about receiving new ones - despite the general melancholy mood that lingered in the air. It had been two, maybe three years since he had been gifted any. His mother used to buy him one every year for his birthday, back when the farm was thriving and they still had money. 

“Go on then, take them out and have a proper look,” Phil nudged.

The boy delicately picked up the closest disc. He traced his thin fingers over the green label. Tommy didn’t own any green ones yet, so he knew this one was going to be special. He let his fingertips draw over the ingrained ridges of the disc, wondering what sounds they would produce. Then he carefully set down the disc and reached for the second one, which had a purple and white striped label. Tommy slowly turned over the disc and he noticed there was writing on the other side of the label. It was his mother’s hand, he’d recognise that cursive scrawl anywhere. The writing read:

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒯𝑜𝓂𝓂𝓎, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝒾𝒸 𝓁𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊.


	2. Solace

Tommy stared at his mother’s words on the record in front of him. Tears formed in his eyes and one silently slid down his young face until it fell off his chin and splashed onto the plastic surface of the disc. He used his forearm to wipe it away in case the ink started bleeding.

“She always planned on giving you those you know,” the gentle tones of Phil’s voice spoke. “I was told to keep them safe and give them to you on a special occasion. I was going to wait til your 16th birthday, but I think today is more fitting. Now whenever you’re feeling lonely you can listen to those and you’ll know we’re both right here beside you.”

Tommy gave a subtle nod to let his father know he understood but he couldn’t bring himself to say any words. Knowing this would be his last chance to speak to him for years possibly, he wanted to open his mouth and pour out all the reasons he would miss him. Instead they sat in silence, Tommy too weighed down by the gravity of his emotions to even begin to say what he felt. It didn’t matter that he said nothing because Phil could see all the love in his eyes and that was enough to translate the words he couldn’t speak.

After a few minutes of this comforting silence it was with great agony that Phil had to end the moment to go pack his suitcase. He found himself rushing around their small house, grabbing essentials and speedily stuffing them into his case. He didn't want to waste a second of what little precious time he had left with his sons. Returning back to the living room he glanced at the old grandfather clock that read half past four and exhaled deeply.

“I think it might be time,” Phil said wistfully. He then in turn pulled each of his sons into a warm and protective hug. When the eldest was in his arms he whispered, “take care of your brother Wil. You’re strong, I know you’ll be okay, but I’m worried about him. Do whatever it takes to make sure he stays out of trouble, don’t let him get on anyone’s bad side.”

After exchanging hugs he turned to face his tearful sons and in a broken yet soft voice spoke, “I love both of you more than you’ll ever understand.” And with that he grabbed hold of his worn suitcase handle and shakily opened the door. The word “goodbye” rose to the edge of his tongue but he suppressed it out of fear that saying it would solidify the painful possibility that he may never make it back home. In several sweeping movements Phil left the house, making sure not to look his sons in the eye as he closed the door behind him. He only managed to take a few steps down the gravel path before being stopped by the sound of the front door opening. He quickly turned around to find his youngest son stood on the porch, staring at him with a look of desperation. The boy ran towards him and pulled him into a final, swift hug. 

“Promise me you’ll be back!” Tommy cried, having to gulp back globular tears between each word. 

“I-I promise,” Phil stuttered, winded by the sheer force of the tackling embrace. 

They stood hugging in the middle of the path for a few final minutes of closeness, Tommy clinging onto his father for dear life. Eventually Phil released himself from his son’s grasp and the boy was left alone to watch as his figure grew smaller and smaller until he was completely lost from sight. Tommy continued to stand there in the gravel long after he’d left, fixated on the hazy castle in the distance. He imagined his father arriving on the castle grounds and climbing aboard a horse-and-cart that would lead him and thousands of other men off to a battlefield. The boy was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear his brother leave the house, nor his heavy footsteps thumping on the porch steps. 

* * *

Wilbur vigorously threw open the towering double doors of the barn. He proceeded to collapse into a heap of hay, exhaling a deep sigh. 

“Fuck.” He said through gritted teeth. Slamming his fist on the cold stone floor beneath the hay. He was angry. Angry at the men for taking his father away. Angry at the ruler for initiating the war. Angry at his father for leaving, even though he knew he had no choice. He burrowed his head in his hands, tugging on his brown curls. The reality of his new situation had suddenly hit him all at once, the events of the day replaying over and over in his mind like a broken record. 

Wilbur started to lose himself in the cavern of his agonising thoughts. He was going to have to work the farm alone and hold a family together, when he could barely stop himself from crumbling. It felt like the foundations from which he used to stand had been stripped beneath his feet. Drained by his racing thoughts he sunk his body further into the bed of hay, allowing the straw to engulf him. He let his eyes shut tightly and scrunched up his face as though doing so would help block out the restless thoughts and calm his mind. Then he laid still for a while. When he opened his eyes he looked up at the ceiling. Soft orange light seeped through the thin gaps between the planks. _Soon this day will be over_ , he thought. 

Outside Tommy was sitting on the porch bench, clutching his discs in his arms as he watched the sun set over the distant town.The blazing orange ball hung just above the castle in the west, It’s warm autumnal tones casting yellow light onto the off-white paint of the buildings. It looked so picturesque for a place that began so much bloodshed.

Tommy spotted the silhouette of a person making their way over a wheat field. He squinted his eyes to decipher the figure. It was his best friend Tubbo, who lived on a farm just over the other side of the field. 

Before long Tubbo was standing before Tommy, who was now curled in a ball with his knees drawn up to his chin. He sat down on the fern green bench beside him, confused as to why his friend was upset. 

“Hey Tommy, what’s wrong?” Tubbo asked softly. He was trying to tread lightly as he knew Tommy often didn’t like to talk when he was in moods like this.

“He’s gone, Tubbo. My dad’s gone.” Tommy responded, staring blankly at the ground. His tone of voice was serious and cold.

“What? Gone where?” Tubbo questioned, clearly still bewildered.

“To war. We thought he wouldn’t have to, with him being a farmer, but these men came to our house and now he’s gone,” Tommy answered. He still didn’t look up.

“O- oh,” Tubbo stuttered, “Tommy that’s awful. I’m not sure what to say…” he paused for a moment before asking, “what can I do to make you feel better?” 

"Nothing Tubbo. Just sit with me,” Tommy said, now turning to look at him. He gave him a weak smile which was instantly returned. They sat in the dusk of the early night, resting in the comfort of silence. It was a peaceful and calm contrast from the frenzy inducing calamity that this day had been. Tommy appreciated Tubbo’s company, he wasn’t the sort to want to be alone when he was distressed. Tubbo felt guilty for not being able to say anything to console him, but he knew nothing he could say would really help through this. All he could do was hope him being there was enough to offer Tommy some kind of solace.

Tommy only broke the silence when he noticed his friend eyeing the discs amid them. It was as though he was asking a question without actually saying anything.

“Dad gave me them, as a goodbye present I guess,” he said, answering the unspoken question. The word goodbye sent a soaring pang through his chest as it passed his lips, it felt too terminal. He chose to ignore the feeling and continued, “they’re actually from my mother too really.” Tommy gently flipped over the disc and gestured to the message. 

Tubbo gave him an affectionate smile, his face softening considerably. He knew how much these discs already meant to Tommy, he could see it in the glimmer of light that glowered behind his previously dull eyes. 

“Have you listened to them yet?” Tubbo asked.

“No. Should we play one now?” Tommy suggested. His friend gave him an assuring nod. 

The boy carefully selected the purple-and-white striped disc titled _‘mellohi’_ and slowly slid it into the slot of a wooden jukebox. He was being particularly cautious to avoid scratching it. Deep, brassy tones began to play and the two listened intently. The melancholy notes of the violoncello wove their way into Tommy’s body and settled in his soul. He suddenly felt a deep connection to the music. It stirred his restless mind and invoked a spontaneous thought which he spoke aloud, “I’m gonna bring him back home.”


	3. Scheming

The next morning Tommy woke at the break of day. Glowing light shone through the thin voile curtains just above his bed. Sudden brightness from the sunrise caused him to stir and his eyes fluttered open slightly, squinting as he adjusted to the daylight. He had just woken up but he felt groggy and tired, still exhausted from yesterday. It also didn't help that he spent half the night laying awake and planning out an elaborate plot in his head to get his father back from war. He hadn’t even allowed himself to process yesterday's events and he was already thinking about what he could do moving forward. Tommy didn’t have time to be patient and wait things out, he always had to act here and now. 

The boy still hadn’t properly woken up yet. He pulled his pillow over his head, hiding from the early yet blinding sun. He stayed in that position for a few minutes until without warning his brain suddenly jolted into action. All his midnight thoughts rapidly flooded back into the forefront of his mind. In a few swift movements Tommy threw his pillow away from himself and leaped out of bed. Then he thundered downstairs, exerting the energy he’d gained overnight onto each oak step. He hastily fixed himself a slice of bread for breakfast, nearly stumbling over his own feet in the process. He had to get ready quickly for the hectic day he had planned ahead. 

Tommy hurried down the narrow hallway to his brother’s room and opened the door with incredible force in hopes that the loud creaking would wake him. When he entered the room he was startled to discover that the bed was empty. Befuddled for a moment the boy stood in the doorway staring at the vacant sheets. It was the first time he’d paused all morning. 

“The barn!” Tommy exclaimed. Suddenly remembering Wilbur sometimes liked to sleep outside when he wanted to be alone. His mind and body shook into motion as though hit with a jolt of electricity. The volts spread through his veins as he dashed out the room and house and headed round the back to the barn. 

Inside the barn Wilbur was still laying in the pile of hay, asleep. He had a restless night trapped in a cycle of his anxious thoughts. While Tommy was optimistically plotting to get their father back, Wilbur’s mind lingered in a darker place. He had been worrying about how he was going to cope without his father, and how he would manage to mask his fear for the sake of his brother. 

No matter how hard Wilbur tried, he couldn’t find any silver lining nor loophole out of their new situation. Losing his mother had taken away that ability, along with the childhood naivety he once had. His rose-coloured glasses had cleared and his perception of the world had never been the same since. 

Tommy had a different outlook entirely. He was at core a problem solver; albeit his solutions were absolutely never successful, but nevertheless he always tried to find some way around whatever difficulty got in his way. Nothing seemed to be an obstacle to him. His innocence somehow hadn’t yet been tainted the way Wilbur’s had. Afterall he was much younger when their mother passed, maybe that's why it didn't distort him like it did his brother. That’s not to say it didn’t affect him, it most certainly did. They were both so close to her. It’s just that Tommy’s youth allowed him to come out the other end unscathed. He still managed to stay buoyant, always feeling that they’d be able to find a route around things. 

“Wilbur! Wilbur. WILBUR,” Tommy repeated while he rustled his brother’s senseless body.

There was no response, not even a flitter of an eyelid. After calling his name a couple more times Wilbur woke up abruptly, sitting bolt upright. His wild eyes speedily flickered around the room like a deer in the headlights. He was rather shook up by the unexpected awakening. 

“Finally you’re awake. Jesus christ you’re a deep sleeper. I had to call your name at least fifty times,” Tommy spoke. He had a tendency to exaggerate almost everything he said. 

“What’s going on? Is something wrong? Tommy has something bad happened?” Wilbur responded, tones of alarm radiating through each question.

“What?” Tommy said, confused by his brother’s reaction. Then he realised his method of waking him may have been some cause for concern. “No, no, I just have something important to tell you. Get up now I’ll tell you on the way, that’ll save time.”

Tommy grasped Wilbur’s arm and tried to drag him to his feet, failing miserably.

“What’re you doing? What do you mean on the way? Where the fuck are you planning on going now?” Wilbur asked. The irritation in his voice was clear, but Tommy still seemed to miss it.

“Just trust me, I have a plan!” Tommy assured, cheerful and animated.

“A plan? Tommy literally what are you on about,” Wilbur exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired and worry-worn face with his hands. “I really don’t have the time for this right now. There’s work to do and I’m still recovering from yesterday. Stop playing games for just one second, do you not understand what kind of mess we’re in right now?” He didn’t get how Tommy could act like this, with so much energy and excitement, considering their father had just left for war. 

“Yeah I understand that. I’m not an idiot Wilbur. We’re in a mess that's why I have a plan to get dad back home,” Despite not giving Wilbur any information at all to work with, he presumed it would’ve been obvious that’s what the plan was for.  _ Jesus. For someone so smart this guy can be so fucking stupid sometimes,  _ he thought.

“Oh Tommy, you really are an idiot,” Wilbur’s tone softened slightly. He now realised what his brother was doing. They both coped with their afflictions differently, Tommy’s method being through denial. 

Wilbur was by far a person of more rational character than his brother. And although admittedly he did briefly consider putting up a fight against those two government officials, or even pleading with them to let Phil stay, his judiciousness had held him back. 

“No. I’m not. If anyone’s the idiot it’s you. Took you about a million hours to catch up on this conversation,” Tommy spoke back. He was never able to just brush off an insult, even the most lighthearted ones. 

“I’ve just woken up! Anyway, go on and tell me this plan then. Let’s get it over with so this conversation can end and we can get on with the farmwork,” Wilbur said bluntly. He was no longer infuriated with Tommy now he knew he was serious about this plan and wasn’t trying to play some kind of game, but his patience was still wearing thin. He didn’t have an ounce of faith in whatever words were about to come out of his brother’s mouth. Knowing him there was no way this plan would be at all coherent. 

“Right. So, I was thinking we just go to the castle yeah, and we make some kind of really big and powerful entrance to show that son of a bitch Dream we mean business. Then we demand he releases dad from the war, and he’ll literally have no choice but to agree,” Tommy spoke with genuine confidence.

Hearing this utter wreck of a plan (if you could even call it that), Wilbur couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh. He was certain Tommy was joking and he was about to share the real plan any second now. It felt so refreshing to feel a moment of joy, even if it was cut short by his brother’s expression. Disappointment washed over the poor boy’s face, causing Wilbur to be hit by a wave of guilt. It dawned on him that that  _ was  _ the real plan.

“Don’t laugh! I spent all night thinking that up. You think of a better idea then, bet you can’t,” Tommy said. He tried to hide it but his voice was filled with hurt.

“You’re right I can’t. No plan is gonna work Tommy, and my god  _ especially _ not that one,” Wilbur responded. Feeling a little regretful of his harsh tone, he added gently, “you knew that though right? I know you want to do something about this but surely you knew that was never gonna work out. Come on, let's go out and start the work. We can plant potatoes together like we used to with dad’s friend.”

“Nah, I’m gonna go milk the cows instead. See you later big man,” Tommy declined Wilbur’s suggestion. He hung his head slightly and left the barn, his wired mood had depleted. Tommy didn’t like to admit it, but his brother’s opinion meant a great deal to him and hearing him laugh at his plan stung. 

The boy plodded across the field, the tattered souls of his old and weathered boots trampling the dried out summer grass. It didn’t take him long to reach the cow field and when he did he gracelessly jumped the cobbled wall, scraping his knees in the process. He examined the damage and shrugged it off, his legs were already permanently covered in scuffs and grazes due to his careless nature. 

On the other side of the wall Tommy’s favourite cow, Henry, was resting peacefully in the pasture. He liked to imagine he had been awaiting his arrival. This cow felt like an old friend to Tommy; he was only a toddler when he was born, so in a way they grew up together.

“Hey Henry,” Tommy said as he sat down beside the cow. He wasn’t in the right mood to do farmwork, so he made the decision to just laze in the meadow instead. He’d told himself he’d get started on the work later, but he knew the chances of that happening were slim.

“Wilbur didn’t like my plan Henry. The little bitch even laughed at it,” Tommy let out, sighing in discontentment. He would often talk to his cow when he didn’t want to be around people. He of course knew he couldn’t comprehend any of it, but sometimes he’d look into his big black eyes and think he could see a hint of recognition. Tommy continued, telling Henry all the badly thought out details of his plan. 

“God. I should be out there  _ doing _ this instead of telling a cow about it. If only Wilbur would’ve just tried it,” the boy spoke allowed to himself, gazing up at the passing clouds. “Maybe I could just go anyway, What’s he gonna do about it? Tell me off? See if I care.” 

Tommy fleetingly considered getting up and marching to the castle right that second, but the idea passed as quickly as it came. He could pretend to have a nonchalant attitude all he wanted, but at heart he knew he  _ would _ care if he disappointed Wilbur. He tried to forget the plan and just accept the situation the way his brother had, but it was all he could think about. It was like his mind was stuck in orbit, constantly circling this one idea. 

_ Fuck it. You know what? I’m literally gonna do it,  _ Tommy thought to himself. He settled on a new plan to go with Tubbo instead. Wilbur’s reluctance to join in wasn’t going to halt him.  _ I’ll have to go tomorrow though, if I go now he’ll be suspicious.  _

* * *

  


As soon as Tommy finished his “farmwork” he ran along to his room. He endeavored to get Tubbo in on his new plan. The boy sprung onto his bed, now having regained the intense buzz he had woken up with that morning. Kneeling at his window he fiercely grabbed the matchbox on the sill. Then he tore out a match and briskly struck it with gusto before quickly using the spark to light the wick. The flame was powerful and blazing, but his candle was stumped; most of the wax had melted due to overuse. He made a mental note to tell Wilbur he needed a new one later. 

Tommy waited for Tubbo to notice the light radiating from his window. He needed him to come over as soon as possible so they could flesh out the specifics of the plan. After a few painful minutes of abiding, his friend eventually caught sight of the lit candle and took a seat at his window. The two had a secret code using candle flickers. One flicker meant yes, two for no, and three for ‘come over?’ Tubbo had made this up many years ago as a way for them to communicate from their rooms. 

Tommy passed his hand over the flame three times and Tubbo responded with a single flicker.

The boy then thudded downstairs so he could be ready at the door upon his friend’s arrival. Even though he couldn’t set the plan into motion until tomorrow, he didn’t want to waste valuable scheming time. 

As Tommy passed his brother’s room on the way to the door he heard a stern voice say, “that better not be you leaving Tommy.”

He rolled his eyes and called back, “I’m not! You expect the worst from me. I'm just waiting for Tubbo to get here.” 

“Hmmm you’re sounding a tad suspicious there. I’m feeling nice though so I’ll believe you this time,” Wilbur said.

Tommy huffed in response before continuing in his path. He took a quick glance out the window and saw that Tubbo had only just left his house.  _ What took him so long?  _ The impatient boy began to pace the hallway to deal with his antsiness. 

About five long minutes later there was a cheerful knock at the door. Tommy hastily fumbled at the latch and opened the handle to find a boy grinning back at him, holding a snail in his palms. “Hello Tommy!” He spoke brightly.

“Why are you so late?” Tommy responded, not even greeting him back.

“Oh uh, I didn’t know there was a rush,” Tubbo said, laughing at Tommy’s seriousness. “I set off as soon as you signalled right, but then I found a snail on the path. So naturally I picked him up to put him in a safe place. That wouldn’t have taken so long if I hadn’t decided to name him. After I named him I grew kind of attached to him and I didn’t wanna leave so I sat with him for like 10 minutes. Then I realised I could just pick him up and bring him here, so that's where we are now.”

Tommy gave him a strange look and said, “you can be so weird sometimes Tubbo.”

“Ouch. Animals are cool though. Don’t act like you don’t talk to the cows, I know you do.”

“Wh-what, that's not true!” Tommy lied, scratching his head in embarrassment.

Taking note of the uneasiness in Tommy’s voice, Tubbo teased, “Ha, caught you! That’ll teach you to make fun of me.”

“Shut up Tubbo,” Tommy shot back. Lowering his voice he continued, “anyway I needed you to come over to tell you about this plan I had.”

“Why are you whispering?” Tubbo said obliviously.

“Oh my god Tubbo, keep your voice down. Wilbur can’t hear about this, he doesn’t want me to do the plan. Let’s go upstairs so we don’t have to keep whispering.”

“Ohh okay. Sorry.”

Tubbo followed Tommy down the hallway. When they got to Wilbur’s room he peaked round the door. “Hey Wilbur, would you like to see my pet snail Larry?” he offered excitedly.

“Yeah sure, I’d love t-”

Wilbur was cut off by Tommy dragging Tubbo away from the door.

“Oh bye then,” he muttered.

When they got to Tommy’s room the two at the foot of his bed, using the frame as a backrest. Tubbo carefully set Larry down on the wooden floorboards.

“Get that slimy fucker off my floor,” Tommy said, disgusted.

Tubbo quickly picked the snail up again and gently pet his shell with his index finger.

“Right so, you know how I said I was gonna get my dad back? Well I thought about it all night and I came up with a plan. I told Wilbur about it this morning but he fucking laughed at me,” Tommy complained. Then he proceeded to tell Tubbo the same plan before asking, “you in?”

“Hmmm I don’t know Tommy… Of course I’ll help you but I’m not sure that's an effective plan.”

“Why not?” 

“It’s just… how do I put this lightly. I can’t, there's no nice way to say this. It’s absolutely terrible Tommy, that plan is shit. We are children, if we barge into the castle they’ll probably kick us out instantly.”

Tommy let out a deep sigh, “I thought you’d agree with me Tubbo.”

“I said I’d help you! We just need a different plan that's all. How about we just ask the guards nicely if we can speak to Dream? Then we can try make him feel bad for you, if he has a heart he’ll listen.”

“That motherfucker has no heart though. Why do you think he starts all these bloody wars? We need to be more demanding, that's the only way we’ll get him to listen.”

“Okay then let’s compromise. First we can try my plan, and if it doesn’t work, then we try yours, yeah?”

“Yeah I  _ guess _ that could work. Still think yours is shit though,” Tommy said. Although he was insulting him his tone was light and playful, and he let out a small chuckle.

“Well you never know my plan might succeed, then you’ll look like a fool for not having faith in it.”

“I couldn’t ever look like a fool Tubbo. It’s not possible.”

Tubbo snorted at his friend. He couldn’t help but laugh whenever he would put on his cocky act.

“So we’re doing this tomorrow then? We’re actually gonna do it? We’re gonna go get my dad back?” Tommy asked, enthusiasm beaming through his voice.

“Hell yeah man!” Tubbo’s chirpy voice shot back.

Not long after their conversation they both went to bed. That night Tubbo stayed over on the sofa. Tommy slept soundly for the first time in a while - he wasn’t plagued by any bothersome thoughts. Instead he felt safe in the knowledge that his plan would work now he had his friend by his side.


	4. Expedition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Tubbo venture into town to speak to Dream.

“Tubbo. Tubbo! Tubbo, wake up!” Tommy whisper-shouted at the boy as he tugged on his arm.

“Hmmm, Tommy not now I’m sleeping,” Tubbo grumbled in response.

“Come on Tubbo, we're doing the plan! Remember?”

“Huh? Plan? What plan?” Tubbo questioned, his exhaustion muddling his memory. It was only five in the morning after all.

“Jesus, what’s _wrong_ with you? Have you got amnesia? We’re going to get my dad back. Get up. Now.” Tommy said as he pulled Tubbo to his feet.

Tubbo staggered as he lost balance and flopped back down onto the sofa. Tommy dragged him up again and this time he managed to stay standing. Having successfully woke Tubbo, Tommy took a few strides towards the door and very quietly unlocked the chain latch. Then he slowly opened the lever handle, trying his best not to produce so much as a faint creak. He didn’t want to wake Wilbur, he knew if he did his plan would be stunted before he even left the house.

Tommy turned round to look at his friend, expecting him to be standing right behind him. Instead he found him collapsed on the sofa in the same position as before.

“TUBBO! Come on, we need to go now before Wilbur gets up and sees us leaving,” Tommy said as he beckoned him to the door. This time he actually followed suit, and they set off down the path that led into town.

Not even two minutes out the house Tubbo piped up, “we’re up before the sun! It’s way too early.”

“Oh will you shut up. The sun literally is up, look.” Tommy gestured to a subdued pink light hidden behind the clouds in the horizon.

“That doesn’t count, it’s still dark out Tommy. We should not be awake right now.”

“If you don’t stop complaining I’m gonna regret bringing you along.”

With that Tubbo did as he was instructed and he stayed quiet for a while. What Tommy said always went, Tubbo never liked to object; feeling that his friend knew what was best.

They trod down the winding gravel path in silence. The only sounds to be heard were their own plodding footsteps and soft distant bird calls. Tommy basked in the calm stillness of the air, letting his mind wonder as he daydreamed of victory.

After a short while Tommy’s thoughts were interrupted, “must we really walk in silence? It’s so boring.”

“Tubbo I’m concentrating, I need silence.”

“Concentrating on what?”

“I’m imagining the plan. Seeing if it works out in my head.”

“Oh, can you not just talk instead? I’m very bored.”

“Fine. But don’t blame me if our plan doesn’t work ‘cos I didn’t get to think it through enough.”

For the remainder of their journey across the field Tubbo told Tommy a series of stories about all the bugs he’d collected over the years. His friend already knew nearly all these tales but he told them nevertheless. Tommy’s brain was only partly listening, one half focused on Tubbo, the other drifted back to their mission. A mixture of nervousness and anticipation crept up in his chest; rising like bubbles in a simmering kettle. He was worried the plan wouldn’t work but also rather excited over the chance that it might.

Tommy tuned back in when he heard Tubbo say, “if ladybugs are girls, how do you think they make kids together?”

“What?” Tommy was thoroughly confused on what route Tubbo’s one sided conversation must’ve taken to get to that point.

“Were you listening at all? I was on about Martha - my pet ladybug. And then I thought, how is that even possible, you know?” Tubbo explained, retracing the thoughts he’d previously expressed when Tommy wasn’t listening.

“You are so _unbelievably_ stupid. They aren’t actually all girls, it’s just the name.”

“Then why are they called that? It really does not make sense. There must be a reason why.”

“I dunno Tubbo,” Tommy sighed.

By the time the two boys neared in on the town the sun had risen, resting just above the skyline. The irregular gravel path they were walking gradually faded into a wider cobbled road. They were no longer surrounded by endless fields and were now enclosed by elbow-to-elbow buildings. The town was the home of the country’s castle and leader, so it was rather large in both population and infrastructure. Usually the streets were lively and bustling, even at times as early as sunrise, as locals were often setting up shop ready for a busy day of sales. However on this day the atmosphere was different - the streets were empty and quiet. It wasn’t the serene kind of quiet Tommy often felt in the countryside; the air had a more desolate and deserted ambience. Tommy couldn’t quite place the general mood of the town, but he knew it made him feel uneasy.

This feeling Tommy felt, the one that made him feel on edge and sent shivers down his spine, was a common troubled spirit that had been shared among all the townsfolk for the past few days. Living on the outskirts of the town tucked away in the countryside, it became very easy for Tommy to forget that he wasn’t really so detached from the town locals as he sometimes thought. He was more connected to them than he realised and especially now that everyone was going through a similar period of loss. Almost all households had had at least one member forcibly ripped from their homes and made to go to war just two days prior.

The two wound their way through the small narrow streets to get to the town centre, from there it was a straight road to the castle. They didn’t manage to spot another sign of life until they approached the heart of the town. The first person they came across was a fletcher lining up his arrows on a stand outside his shop; it seemed some people were able to ignore the melancholy mood and continue with their everyday lives. A few blocks down from the fletchers they passed a record shop. Tommy stopped in his tracks to look at the discs in the shop window, letting out a deep sigh. He missed the days when his father used to take him there. It had been many years since they could afford to buy any, but he would still go just to look at them and imagine what it would be like to have a colourful collection as vast as the store’s.

When they reached the townsquare the atmosphere shifted to a more lively and upbeat tone. It was a sunday, so the market was running as usual and they got to experience a brief moment of normal town life. The square was filled to the brim with back to back stalls selling an assortment of produce. Tommy waded through the bustling sea of people, his eyes fixed on the castle ahead. In contrast Tubbo’s gaze flitted between each stall, he was in awe of the extensive range of items and the festive nature of the marketeers. It had been a long time since he’d last been to the market - his family were farmers, they already had everything you could ever need to buy at hand.

“Tommy look! These are so cool!” Tubbo enthused as he picked up a porcelain fox sculpture and showed it to his friend.

“Yeah. But come on, put it down and let's keep going, you can’t afford it anyway,” Tommy said.

A glimpse of defeat flashed over Tubbo’s face. This made Tommy feel bad for being so blunt, afterall Tubbo was willing to help him with the mission despite not getting anything out of it himself. He didn’t really need to be here, and Tommy felt he was maybe a little too harsh on him sometimes. Of course he would never admit that though. After his friend set the figure back on the wooden stand, without thinking Tommy snatched the ornament and pocketed it.

A couple stalls further Tubbo stopped again; he had spotted a bunch of marigolds which were his favourite flower. Then he noticed a bee pollinating one of the flowers and exclaimed, “look it’s a bee! Tommy I love bees, I wish I could pick them up without them stinging me.” His friend gave him a look of impatience and he continued, “sorry yeah, I need to stop stopping.”

Once they finally made it through the crowd of shoppers they were now on the main road to the castle. To Tommy’s frustration, the road was equally as busy as the square had been. It seemed this was the most hectic part of town, swarmed with people getting on with their everyday jobs and duties. Tommy had hoped this stretch of the journey would’ve been less packed so he didn’t have to keep meandering through people, which appeared to add a decent amount of time to the trip. Although it was a direct road to their destination, it felt like they were still traversing the narrow streets that led into town.

For this length of the trek Tubbo stifled his urge to talk, he knew Tommy was far too focused on the mission to listen. Tommy’s anger, the same anger that had been marinating inside him since the day his father was taken, re-emerged and painted his face with a look of raw determination. Tubbo didn’t want to mess with that.

By this point the two were now marching through the stream of people. Tommy accidentally slammed into a person here and there, not having time to show decency and apologise. Tubbo would whip round and blurt a profuse ‘sorry’ every time this happened. As they continued along the road, the horde eventually faded into a much smaller gathering until there were only a few stragglers left. The lack of obstacles made it much easier to travel and soon enough the road came to a close. Their expedition wasn’t over yet though, they still had to make their way up the mountainous hill to get to the castle perching on top.

Here the path was intersected by towering stone walls which encased the castle. The walls were tall and impenetrable - the only way in being through an archway entrance cut into the rock. When forming his plan Tommy thought it would’ve been easy enough to get past this stage, but he didn’t account for the fact that there would be a guard in the way.

“Shit.” Tommy cursed, expressing his panic.

“What’s wrong?” Tubbo asked, unaware of the sudden issue.

“There’s a guard, I don’t know what we should do now,” Tommy answered, pointing at a young man of around twenty wearing bulky, medieval iron armour and a white bandana carelessly wrapped around his head.

“Didn’t we decide we were gonna nicely ask to speak to Dream?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect there to be one this early in the plan. I only thought about how to get past the ones once we’re actually in the castle. It’s fine though, I’ll just make things up as I go along,” Tommy spoke, regaining some confidence. Then he approached the guard and said boldly, “I need to speak to Dream about something very important. Will you let us past the gates?”

Taken aback, the man burst into a fit of laughter. He had got into a lot of interesting conversations on the job before but never in his life had any children ever asked him to let them in the castle to speak to the king.

“Oh sorry. I meant please will you let us past the gates?” Tommy said, completely misunderstanding the source of the guard’s laughter and thinking it was due to him being too impolite.

“Why would I-” the man started, cutting himself off with his own laughter. “Why would I let two random kids in to speak to Dream?”

“We’re not _random kids_ and we have a _very_ important mission to get on with so if you would step aside bitch and let us in that would be great,” Tommy spat, anger and fury growing in his chest. There was nothing he hated more than being treated like a child.

This outburst only caused the guard to snicker even more, much to Tommy’s dismay. After finally recovering from his laughing fit he spoke, “Dream’s not even in the castle right now anyway, you came to the wrong place.”

“Where is he?” Tubbo asked before Tommy could get his word in and cause anymore unnecessary chaos.

“In the community hall. He’s doing a speech about the war stuff,” the man answered.

“Okay, thank you!” Tubbo said before the two turned around and started heading back in the direction of the market.

Once they were a few feet away from the guard, Tommy beamed excitedly, “Tubbo this is great!”

“It is? Doesn’t this mean we’re gonna have to wait longer to talk to him?”

“No now it’ll be so much easier. We won’t have to worry about figuring out how to get into the castle ‘cos we can just barge into the community hall.” Tommy responded, astonished at how this had turned out in their favour.

Tubbo’s mouth curled into a smile that said that might work you know. He had been quite doubtful of Tommy’s original plan involving the castle. However this plan seemed far more realistic; the community hall was a public building so there was a chance they could enter without being tossed out.

The two friends advanced towards the townsquare - that was where the hall was, just behind the market. They walked with a strong sense of purposefulness, ready to take on the task at hand. Their heavy boots clobbered on the cobbled road as if to the beat of a military drum. Tommy had never been more focused on anything in his life. This felt like it would be the most important thing he’d ever have to commit to.

The rapid pace at which they walked meant they were back at the square in no time at all. Tubbo was no longer distracted by the excitement of the stalls, now he was fixated on the mission, almost as steadfast as Tommy. They zigzagged through the mass of people conjugating in the market and emerged at the other side. Now they stood upon the community hall.

The two boys lingered by the door of the brick building, teetering on the edge of the first step. Tommy paused for a moment, psyching himself up for what he was about to do next. Then he turned to his friend and asked, “ready?”

“Ready.” Tubbo affirmed, nodding briskly.

The pair then simultaneously ascended the stairs and shoved open the oak double doors, making their grand entrance.

Inside Dream stood poised at a lecturn by the far wall. A look of pure confusion flashed over his formerly dynamic face.

Tommy took a single stride forward and brazenly said, “Dream. I need to talk to you. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shiit its all going down now
> 
> -
> 
> Next chapter: Tommy confronts Dream about releasing Phil from war.
> 
> (p.s ty kyle for the porcelain fox idea its very cute)


	5. Confrontation I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy finally gets to confront Dream and ask for Phil to be released from war.

“Who the hell is he?” Dream said, turning to ask a guard beside him. He was in a state of shock but also slightly bemused.

Shrugging, the guard responded, “I have no idea.”

In the few moments that followed a couple of guards by the entrance grabbed Tommy and Tubbo, spun them round and started pushing them out the door. The two made a desperate attempt to wriggle free from their tight grasps.

Taking hold of the guard’s forearm, Tommy spoke through gritted teeth, “let go of me bitch.”

Ignoring this demand, the guard released himself from Tommy’s hold and gripped his shoulders so hard he dug his nails in. Then with one forceful shove Tommy landed back on the steps outside, nearly falling to the ground as he struggled to stabilise his legs. Half a second later Tubbo was also expelled from the room and the two turned to see the door slam in their faces. 

“Well, uh, that didn’t go so well,” Tubbo said, ruffling the back of his hair.

“Fuck. I can’t believe they kicked us out so fast! They din’t even wait to see what we had to say,” Tommy complained. He felt downtrodden, but he didn’t accept defeat yet. Adrenaline still rushed through his veins and pressed him to carry on with the mission. He proposed a new idea, “why don’t we just wait over there at the fountain. It’s far enough away for the guards to not be suspicious if they come back to check. Then when Dream leaves we can try get his attention again.”

Tubbo agreed and then they headed over to the fountain, settling down on the edge of the stone brim. When sitting Tubbo’s feet didn’t quite reach the ground and he swayed them slightly to pass the time. 

Tommy’s hands were shaking violently - not because of nervousness but from the rage that erupted inside him. He tried to cease the trembling as he didn’t want to be in a state when Dream arrived. The last thing he wanted was for him to mistake his anger for fear.

Noticing the shaking Tubbo asked, “Tommy are you okay?”

“Yeah, just angry that’s all. And... and I don’t wanna fail my dad. It’s fine though cos I _will_ get him back. I don't care what it takes or how many times Dream ignores us. I’ll make sure he listens eventually.”

Nodding Tubbo responded, “it’s fine for you to be scared you know. I would be.”

“I’m not scared,” Tommy said sharply, but he was perhaps in denial and secretly a bit panicky. Usually nothing phased him and all he needed was enough determination to override his nerves. However, now he was finding it difficult to sustain this balance and the nerves were surfacing - taking the pilot seat in his mind. He successfully managed to suppress them by reassuring himself that soon enough the anger will take charge again.

The two impatiently waited, anticipating Dream’s appearance from the building. Tommy tapped his restless fingers on the smooth stone of the fountain. Then he dipped his left hand in the water, letting the refreshingly cold sensation wash over him. In his movement his other hand brushed past his right pocket and he felt the shape of the souvenir he’d stolen.

“Tubbo, I just remembered! Look, I got something for you.” Tommy slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the porcelain fox before passing it to his friend.

Tubbo gasped in excitement at the kind gesture, “Oh my god, it’s the fox! Thank you Tommy! When did you get this though? Did you steal it?”

“Maybe,” Tommy said sheepishly. 

Tubbo chuckled lightly, he expected nothing less from him. 

“You gonna give it a name? You like naming everything.”

“Hmmm,” he paused as he thought for a moment, “I think I’ll call him squeaks! You know, cos foxes squeak. I used to have a pet fox once-”

Tubbo paused as he saw Dream leaving the hall in his peripheral vision. Confused as to why his friend stopped, Tommy followed his stare. A powerful figure emerged from the community hall, draped in heavy evergreen robes. The velvet material was bedazzled with a series of jewels: diamonds, emeralds, lapiz, and redstone. The robes were lined with white fur and joined together by an intricate gold clasp. Dream’s presence was authoritative and attention capturing, his demeanor that of an omnipotent god. Two guards surrounded him - one who’s most defining features were his bright blond hair and a chain dangling from his neck, the other had shorter dark brown hair and white glasses. 

Tommy gulped down the lump in his throat. He certainly found Dream’s imposing exit intimidating, but this didn’t stop him from approaching him. The young boy rushed up to the king, picking up his pace into a run. He didn’t have time to dawdle in case he somehow missed him. Tubbo followed his friend’s lead, lagging behind slightly as he wasn’t quite as fast.

Tommy halted abruptly, anchoring his heels to the ground. He stopped directly in the king’s path and now the two stood face to face. Dream gave him a look of clear unfiltered filth; he detested having his time wasted. 

“Oh. It’s you again,” Dream said flatly, his voice cold and monotone.

“Yeah it is. Please listen to me Dream, my Dad - Phil Watson, he got sent to war recently and I-” Tommy scrambled to explain his situation, but he was broken off when Dream curtly pushed past him.

“Dream! Come on man, please don’t ignore me. At least let me finish what I had to say,” Tommy begged. He felt like spurting an array of colourful swears but he restrained himself, knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with this if he didn’t at least try to be respectful. It was clear that the original plan of being demanding didn’t succeed, although Tubbo’s plan to be nice didn’t seem to be working either.

Dream turned back and said coarsely, “don’t you have something better to do?” He paused, eyeing the boy up and down. He noticed his muddy clothes and scraped knees, “You look like a farm boy, you probably have errands to run.” 

The King then carried on in his path. Tommy called to his back, “this is more important than any farm chores. Please, it won’t take much of your time I promise.”

Dream continued to scorn him, refusing to respond. This infuriated Tommy. _How fucking dare he_ , the boy thought. He didn’t care how high-profile this man was, it was still incredibly rude of him to completely blank him. A growing feeling of resentment resided in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t keep up this polite facade any longer.

“You really don’t give a _single_ fuck about your people do you?” Tommy said, serious and assured. His previously warm toned voice dropped to ice cold - sub zero. 

“What did you just say?” Dream said in astonishment, spinning round to look at Tommy. 

“Yeah that’s right, you heard me,” Tommy responded, a smug smirk crept up on his face and he crossed his arms over his chest. _Now that caught his attention_.

“That’s not true. I do care,” Dream denied the accusation.

“If you care, then listen to me.”

Dream paused for a moment, mentally debating his next move. Tommy really had trapped him in a corner here; if he continued to ignore the boy he’d look like a callous leader, and if he agreed to listen to him he’d risk seeming weak. After a brief contemplation he let out an intense sigh and reluctantly said, “Fine. We can talk for a bit. Not here though, there’s way too many people around.”

A feeling of relief passed over Tommy, cleansing his anger and suspending the uncontrollable storm inside him. He was glad Dream had finally started to listen - Perhaps he wasn’t so bad afterall. 

“Where should we go instead? The castle?” Tommy questioned.

“The _castle?_ You’re joking right?” Dream scoffed.

“No? Why not? It’ll be quieter there, in’t that what you want?” 

“You think I'd trust you kids enough to let you in my castle? I don’t know what shit you’d steal. We can go to a pub, there’s one just a block down and it’s usually pretty empty at this time.” 

“Is it The Umbrella? I used to go there all the time with my dad,” Tommy asked, hoping it would be the same pub - he liked the familiar feel of it.

“Yeah I think it might be called that. The name rings a bell,” Dream said. Then without much warning he started heading in the direction of the pub - not wanting to loiter as he hoped this whole ordeal would be over quickly.

Tommy and Tubbo trailed behind Dream on the walk over. Too afraid to mess things up when the plan seemed to be so going well, they didn’t utter a word to each other the whole journey. Instead the two used facial expressions to communicate nonverbally through eye widening and brow movements. 

In reality it didn’t take long at all for the three to reach the pub, but the uncomfortably awkward silence made the trip feel like an eternity. The Umbrella was quaint and humble, it blended in well with the other archaic buildings with its thatched roof and timber frame. It didn’t look like much from the outside but the interior felt very cosy.

Dream continued to lead the way in through the shabby, paint-peeling door. When they entered Tommy immediately noticed the atmosphere was off; the workers and customers were tense instead of having their usual cheerful air. Everyone in the room turned to stare at them, paralised in a state of shock. It was inconceivable for the king to be visiting a local pub, especially with two common farm boys by his side. 

A waitress hurried over and frantically bowed at the king. She then proceeded to ask him where he’d like to sit, offering him any table in the place. Dream chose a booth in the far corner of the room secluded from the rest of the locals. Tommy sat across from Dream and Tubbo sat beside him. Once seated the waitress asked for their order to which Dream answered, “just a glass of wine.”

“Of course sir, are you sure that’s all you want? You can have anything on the house.”

“Yeah, that’s it thank you,” Dream confirmed.

Just as the waitress was leaving Tommy blurted, “Can I have a drink?”

“Sure, what would you like?” The waitress responded.

“Mead. A pint of mead.”

Hearing this, Dream wheezed forcefully. “You are _not_ having a pint of mead. Aren’t you like thirteen?”

“Fourteen actually, and I’ve ‘ad mead plenty times before,” Tommy lied - he’d only had it once on Wilbur’s 16th birthday, and even then he wasn’t actually allowed it. Wilbur had smuggled him some against Phil’s will; telling him it was apple juice and giving Tommy a wink. 

“I _doubt_ that.” Dream said sceptically, then he turned to the waitress, “he’ll have a glass of water. Get two actually, one for each of them.” 

Tommy was somewhat disappointed with this but alas he had more important things to deal with. 

The waitress disappeared behind the bar to attend to their order and Dream began the meeting, “So, let’s make this quick, what’re your names?” 

“I’m Tommy and this is my friend Tubbo,” he answered, gesturing to the boy beside him.

“So then Tommy, what’s the problem? You said it’s to do with your dad going to war. I really don’t think there’s much I’m gonna be able to do about that,” Dream said. His voice was mostly calm and collected but hidden in the undertones was the slightest tint of animosity. 

“What do you mean there’s not much you can do about it? You’re literally the reason he’s at war in the first place. All I’m asking is that you release him, just one person out of the thousands that work for you,” Tommy responded, beginning to flare up. He had no tolerance for his false charm.

“Yeah, but war is war Tommy. It’s just the way it is. What about those other thousands you mentioned? They all have families too but theirs’ just accept it how it is, you need to do that too.”

Before Tommy got the chance to respond the waitress returned with Dream’s glass of wine. Once she’d left again he said, “it’s not fair though! Come on, how much will it really affect you?”

“Well if I’m honest, not much. _However,_ I have a reputation to keep. You’re right I could release your dad, but that doesn’t mean I necessarily _want_ to. If I start making any exceptions then what kind of ruler would I be? I’m not gonna sacrifice my consistency for your sake,” Dream’s uncaring voice spoke. His sympathetic mask was slipping. 

Raw rage rose up from the pit of Tommy’s stomach. He could physically feel it burning his throat, “You don’t _want_ to? You sick fucking bastard! I was right you really don’t give a fuck about your people.”

Dream’s eyes enlarged, he was truly astounded at the boy’s nerve. He had never in his whole monarchy met anyone quite like him, and not in a good way. “Woah woah woah, calm down Tommy. Listen-“

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down you selfish bitch,” Tommy spat. He was sick of feeling like he wasn’t being listened to, he didn’t appear to be taking a single word he said seriously.

This disrespect aggravated Dream. He didn’t understand why the boy wasn’t agreeing with him the way everyone else did. Going into the meeting, he thought this whole issue would be a quick fix - he’d just tell him the standard speal about war being important and they’d both go their separate ways, never having to deal with each other again. This was not the case, Tommy seemed persistent in his request and not at all willing to back down. Dream didn’t stoop to fighting back with anger though, he knew that wouldn’t be a clever move. Instead he resorted to playing his mind games.

Dream took a quick swig of his wine and leant forward on the table menacingly. Swirling the glass in his hand he said, “Do you think he’d be proud of you for causing all this disruption? You’re father I mean. He’s a farmer right? Surely he’s the type to like to mind his own business. Who are you _really_ doing this for, Tommy?”

The bombard of shrewd questions knocked Tommy’s confidence askew. This hurt far more than blatant blanking and even the false politeness. Drawing in a shaky breath he said, “wh-what? I’m doing this for him. To bring him home. Who else would I be doing this for?”

“Yourself. Think about it, did he ever actually tell you he wanted to stay home? Maybe he likes being at war, a lot of people do.”

Tommy felt certain his father had told him that, but these cunning questions were complicating his mind. The line between reality and deception merged, blurring his memory. He frantically racked his brain - trying to remember every word Phil had said to him the day he left, but he found nothing. Tommy’s ears began to ring violently like a scratching record. He felt like throwing his head in his hands from mental exhaustion, but he didn’t. Recomposing himself, Tommy said with empty confidence, “he did. He definitely told me that.”

“Hmmm well if you’re _sure_. Anyway, I think We’re done here. You’re not gonna get the conclusion you want from this so we might as well end this now,” Dream responded abruptly, starting to get up from his seat. His voice was as sharp and cold as a shard of ice. 

These words seared through Tommy’s chest, he wasn’t ready for his plan to be terminated. “No, no please don’t leave yet! Come on just, do this one favour for me. It won’t take much from you at all,” he gave his last plea. 

Dream sat back down and exhaled deeply, “you think you're so _special_ Tommy, don’t you? That you're _entitled_ to this. Well let me tell you something - you’re not, and you won’t get things simply by asking for them. You might in the world in your head, where you see yourself as some kind of hero, but not in the real world.”

Tommy ignored these hateful remarks, his mind fog had cleared and now he knew Dream was only saying this to mess with him. He decided to try playing games back. Narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth he said, “why do you start all these wars Dream? My entire fucking life there’s been some kind of war going on. Why is that? What’s the point in it?”

Seemingly avoiding the question, Dream responded with his own, “let me ask you something Tommy. What’s your most prized possession?”

Perplexed, Tommy asked, “My most prized possession?”

“You know, the most important thing to you.”

“How is this relevant?”

“Just answer the question,” Dream said bluntly.

Tommy paused for a few moments before saying, “My discs. They belonged to my mother and then my father gave me them before he had to leave.”

“Your discs? Do you have a lot of these discs?”

“Yeah - I collect them. I still don’t understand why this matters.”

“Okay so, think of it this way. Just like how you collect discs, I collect land. I gather all these other nations under my belt, and build up a stronger empire for the country. So to answer your question, that’s the reason I start all these wars, it’s to make our country more _powerful._ This country, and the other’s I concur too, are my _discs.”_

At the closure of his little speech Dream swiftly got up again and set his eyes on the door. He didn’t even turn back, not once, as Tommy desperately called after him, callously overlooking his pleading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are getting a bit longer now! This one was really dialogue heavy but I hope it was still enjoyable. Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with the story so far it really means a lot :)


	6. Confrontation II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur confronts Tommy about where he's been all day.

The trek home from town was far quieter than the journey in. A grey, dismal cloud seemed to emanate from Tommy. It’s melancholy air was so powerful it even brought Tubbo’s mood down too. For that reason neither of them spoke a word, walking beside each other in forlorn silence. They broke this silence only once to mumble joyless goodbyes that marked the end of the trip. 

In the final stretch from Tubbo’s house to his own Tommy thought of a cover-up to tell his brother. There was no way he could reveal the truth about where he’d been - not unless he wanted to be crucified. He decided to say he’d been on a walk with Tubbo. This seemed like a plausible excuse as he often would disappear for a day to do just that.

Upon entering the house Tommy could smell a delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen. He followed the trail of scent into the room, presuming that’d be where he’d find Wilbur. There he was, stood at the stove stirring a pot of chicken soup. He heard Tommy’s footsteps creaking on the weak wooden floorboards and turned to face him.

Wilbur gave Tommy a grave look. He winced at this, recognising that he was in for some kind of lecture. He wasn’t sure what for yet, really it could be anything. The boy got into numerous scrapes on the daily and so he would usually have forgotten most of them by the time he was being told off for it. 

“Where have you been?” Wilbur asked. His voice was stern and serious - there wasn’t so much as scrap of cheer within it. 

Avoiding eye contact Tommy responded, “I went for a walk with Tubbo on the headlands. Wanted to get away from things you know.”

Wilbur’s face only grew grimmer and it was clear he didn’t buy it. He continued to glare at his brother as he said, “Stop lying. Tell me where you really were Tommy.” His voice was somehow more unwavering and intimidating than before.

“I’m not lying! Why do you always think I am?” Tommy said hastily - tone high pitched and wobbly. He thought he was a good liar, and really you’d expect he would be considering how regularly he told tales. In reality he was atrocious at it and without exception Wilbur would see straight through him.

“Because more often than not you are. Besides, you’re the worst liar,” Wilbur pointed out. For a moment it seemed his mood was softening, but then he remembered he was mid interrogation, “Admit it, you were out doing something else.”

“I wasn’t! I promise, please believe me,” Tommy answered in an unstable voice, still desperately avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t bear to meet with Wilbur’s fierce scowl; it felt like he was piercing into his soul. Tommy hated seeing his brother like this, the look of anger and deep disappointment was enough to make him feel immense guilt. Of course he would never admit to feeling bad about anything though, that would be too damaging to his pride. To Tommy’s great relief, he no longer had to worry about dodging his glower as Wilbur turned his back on him to finish preparing supper. 

While bending down to open the oven door Wilbur said, “I don’t believe you. You won’t even look me in the eye. Confess now, where were you?” 

Tommy’s sizzling temper resurfaced. He knew he didn’t have any real reason to be mad at his brother, afterall  _ he  _ was the one lying, but he had a terrible habit of putting up a huge defense to counter every accusation that came his way. It didn’t matter an inch to Tommy whether he was in the right or not. Raising his voice, he said, “you never fucking believe me Wilbur! I’m sick of you always thinking I’ve done something wrong when I haven’t.”

Strangely, Wilbur didn’t respond at all. Tommy thought this was very unusual behaviour for him. He had expected to be hit back with a wave of fire instead of chilling silence. The boy waited for the comeback, but it never came. 

Wilbur broke the silence to tell Tommy to sit down for supper. His tone was as deadly as before, despite the confrontation seemingly having ended. Tommy did as he was instructed and quietly waited for his brother to set the food down on the table. When his share of bread was presented in front of him, he gingerly tore a section of the loaf, dipped it in soup and popped it in his mouth. He was ravenous; all the running across town had really taken it out of him. When the scolding bite met with his tongue he cursed, “shit! That’s hot!”

“Mmhm. Should’ve waited for it to cool,” Wilbur responded weakly without bothering to look up from his plate. 

“What’s up with you big man? You’re all quiet n shit,” Tommy asked - he hated awkward silences. After yet again being met with a wall of sullenness he continued, “is this ‘cos I got angry? If so I’m sorry about that.”

Tommy thought this would clear the tense air, it was  _ very _ rare that he would apologise for anything so he assumed it’d lift Wilbur’s spirit. On the contrary, the apology somehow made things worse. This time Tommy was the one stunned to silence when Wilbur spoke five awful, unexpected words:

_ I know where you were. _

Tommy dropped the spoon that was midway to his mouth and it clattered on the hard surface of the table. These words hit him with a heavy slab of dread. His worst fear from the past few days had become an unpleasant reality. All his careful tiptoeing around Wilbur was for nothing, he had found out regardless. Deep down Tommy knew he was going to have to pay the consequences of his expedition, but he wasn’t willing to back down from the lie yet. His usual ability to think quickly left him stranded, so he did what he knew best - denial. 

Picking up the spoon and returning it to his bowl Tommy said, “Wilbur what are you on about? You’re being weird, I already told you where I was.” The boy tried to keep his voice calm but it was clearly spiked with panic, which certainly didn’t help make the lie more convincing. Either way it didn’t matter anymore whether he was good at lying or not; there was nothing he could do to remedy the situation he was stuck in. Wilbur already knew everything, and he had the whole time.

“Tommy, drop the act. I  _ just  _ said I know where you were. You went through with that stupid plan of yours despite me saying not to,” Wilbur’s venomous voice spat. This was the most disappointed he’d been in his brother for a long time, and that was saying something. 

“H-how do you know?” Tommy asked shakily. His wall of defense had been knocked down to rubble and ruins. Wilbur was the only person who could truly dissolve his bravado. It had been an exhausting day for Tommy both physically and mentally so he didn’t have the strength to keep up with the lie. 

“That boy from the farm across town - Jack Manifold - came by earlier to sell his pig. He told me he’d just seen you bursting into the community hall. What the fuck were you doing waltzing into the hall? Don’t answer that, I  _ know _ you were trying to speak to Dream,” a vexed Wilbur said, all the while glaring at Tommy threateningly. 

“ _ Jack Manifold  _ ratted me out? Oh I knew he wasn’t one to be trusted! I’m gonna have to have a word with him later. What a slimy fella-”

Tommy’s rantings were abruptly cut short by his brother who slammed his hand on the table causing him to jump out of reflex. Raising his voice exponentially Wilbur now said, “Stop. That’s not the point Tommy! The point is you didn’t listen to me after I  _ specifically  _ told you not to do that stupid,  _ stupid _ plan. You never listen to me do you? Does what I say mean anything at all? I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you and  _ all _ you care about is that it was Jack Manifold who grassed on you.” Wilbur’s anger had reached a summit by this point. He hated how whenever he would try to confront Tommy about anything he’d always deflect the conversation and avoid the real issue by focusing on unimportant things.

“Wilbur why did you pretend to not know? Why didn’t you just say from the start you knew instead of asking where I was about fifty times? You tricked me!” Tommy said woefully. The internal distress he felt was projected onto his facial expression and body language. His brows furrowed and he shifted nervously in his seat. He felt utterly humiliated.

Wilbur sighed in fervid exasperation. Firmly pressing his thumbs into his temples he said, “oh  _ I’m  _ the one who tricked you am I? You just spent half an hour telling me some bullshit cover-up, and now  _ I’m _ the liar? Here you go again avoiding the actual problem. It’s all you  _ ever _ do.”

Those last few words sliced into Tommy’s core and transformed his fright into hostile rage. Pushing his luck too far he said, “I avoid problems? Shit Wilbur, well  _ excuse me _ for actually wanting to go out and get dad back! What have you been doing eh, sitting around on your ass all day being all sad? You’ve probably been all like  _ oh no whatever am I gonna do! Now I have to raise this reckless kid all on my own. If only dad was still here!  _ That’s exactly what you’ve been thinking. I’m right and you know it. I don’t get you Wilbur, why are you so against me trying to get him back?” 

Tommy’s mockery really struck a fragile nerve. Maybe because part of Wilbur knew he was right, that it was almost exactly what he’d been thinking. Even so, hearing his brother mimic his worries in that childish tone felt awful. Until this moment Wilbur had been holding back from expressing how truly angry he was. Now his pent up fury erupted violently like a lid had been lifted - setting free a fiery explosion of emotions.

Throwing his arms in the air with vigor Wilbur shouted, “Oh you’ve gone too fucking far now Tommy. You think doing the farmwork to keep us alive is sitting around all day? You wanna know why I’m against your stupid fucking antics, huh? It’s because  _ dad _ told me not to let you get into trouble. I’m just doing what he wanted me to do. What have you been doing eh, running around town all day being all disruptive?  _ Oh look at me I’m Tommy and I have a big plan! I’m gonna get dad back all by myself!  _ No,  _ I’m  _ right and  _ you _ know it. I don’t get  _ you _ Tommy, why are you so against accepting the truth? You never were gonna bring him home.”

_ You never were gonna bring him home.  _

These bullets flew from Wilbur’s mouth, sunk into Tommy and painted a look of defeat onto the canvas of his face. This whole speech painfully reminded him of Dream’s words from earlier. They echoed loudly, ricocheting off the walls of Tommy's mind. 

_ Do you think he’d be proud of you for causing all this disruption? _

In a small, feeble voice Tommy said, “Did he- did he really tell you that? Is that how you both really see me? As some annoying kid who’s good for nothing except trouble?” Then he paused for a second before dropping a detonating bomb, “Wilbur, if you hate being left with me just say it.” 

“Tommy no, that's not what I meant-” before Wilbur could finish his explanation Tommy fled the room. A few moments later he heard the resounding bang of a door above him.

An intense feeling of dread drenched Wilbur from head to toe. His knees buckled and he let his body gradually slide down the wall to the kitchen floor. Then he sunk his heavy face into his hands. Wilbur immediately regretted everything he’d just said. How could he let his temper get the best of him? That wasn’t what either of them needed right now. He should’ve been the sensible one in the situation; he was the eldest afterall. Instead he had resorted to petty bickering and using Tommy’s own childish tactics against him. Wilbur knew better than to sink to that level. Tommy was the kid here, he should’ve been more lenient with his irresponsible behaviour. Instead he viciously lashed out at him for doing what he thought was best. He should’ve reassured Tommy Phil would’ve been proud of him for being so dedicated to help him out of war. Instead he told him he’d done the exact opposite of what Phil wanted. He  _ should’ve  _ done all that _ ,  _ but he hadn’t.

Upstairs Tommy was sprawled on the bed. He laid on his back and stared vacantly at the mould on the ceiling. He was far too beat to even be angry at Wilbur anymore. Now he was just torn up, his usual feistiness had been completely drained from him. Tommy didn’t know if Wilbur really had intended for his words to hurt the way they did, but it didn’t matter either way because he still said them - and with such meaning at that. Perhaps that meaning was futile and simply driven by his anger in the spur of the moment. Or maybe, just maybe it reflected how he truly felt. Was he really that much of a burden to his family? Altogether exhausted by his racing thoughts, Tommy let his heavy eyelids shut tight as he entered a restless night of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst in this chapter, I feel like it might be too dramatic but oh well. Thanks again to everyone who's been reading! 
> 
> -
> 
> Next chapter: Tommy wakes up to find something missing.


	7. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy wakes up to find something's missing.

Tommy awoke to the beaming rays of the high sun. They streamed in through his thin cream curtains and illuminated his tired face. Judging from the intensity of the light, Tommy gaged it must’ve been at least midday. Upon realising this on any normal day he would’ve clambered to his feet and struggled to quickly pull his shirt over his head and sloppily tie his laces. He usually hated waking up late, it felt like such a waste of what could’ve been a day packed with adventure. Whether that meant causing some kind of trouble with Tubbo as his idea of fun, or hatching important plans. On this day he was in no rush for anything. There was no plan to accomplish nor anything to be excited about. 

Already dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Tommy saw no reason to hurry to get up. Instead he lay in the same position as he did last night and let the same worries take charge of him. They replaced the spirited passion he was usually driven by. He hoped resolving his differences with Wilbur might help him return to his ordinary self - that could be his new mission for the day. Tommy liked to assign a set purpose for each day. Phil had introduced this to him some years ago as a tactic to help stay organised and tame his reckless behaviour. However, often this little method seemed to do the exact opposite of its intended benefit. He’d somehow manage to deviate from the mechanism designed to keep him in line by setting himself ridiculous tasks. He thought today’s goal was a sensible one though, Phil would be happy about that. 

All this thinking about task setting reminded Tommy of the time he’d decided to eat Wilbur’s entire birthday cake. That day Phil went downstairs to find his five-year-old son perched on the kitchen counter with a fistful of chocolate sponge in his grubby hand. Tommy remembered the feeling of pure fear he felt from being caught in the act. The shame that washed over him when his father snatched the cake away and scrubbed the brown stains from his face. In a way nothing had really changed there, he still felt a similar feeling when he’d been caught out for his plan. 

The boy never seemed to be able to learn from these experiences, and he was still the same mischievous kid who would take what wasn’t his and run around all day causing his parents stress. Only now Tommy had suddenly been launched into an entirely new situation that he was entirely too young to know how to deal with. Although something he did know was that he couldn’t keep acting the same as he had when Phil was in charge. At least he’d learnt one lesson from yesterday’s conflict. Before, he was able to run amuck all day and not end up causing Phil too much hassle; he’d become accustomed to it. In contrast, as mature and sensible as Wilbur was, he wasn’t at all equipped to curb his brother’s chaotic behaviour. He too had been thrown into the same ambiguous situation. Despite being the older brother, Wilbur was equally as unprepared, and Tommy began to realise that. He was used to Wilbur being so well coordinated that he’d lost sight of the fact that he may be struggling too. 

Now that Tommy had come to terms with this he knew he had to sort things out with Wilbur immediately. He managed to conjure the motivation to get out of bed and head downstairs. When Tommy reached his brother’s bedroom door he lingered outside it, delaying the conversation as much as possible. It took a lot of energy for him to psych himself up for things like this as he found it very hard to admit when he was wrong. Taking a deep breath, Tommy slowly started turning the doorknob. Just as the door was about to latch open he let go of the handle. Something reflective in the corner of his eye had caught his attention. He turned his gaze towards the source - it was a shard of broken glass. 

Narrowing his eyes in confusion and curiosity, Tommy went to the living room to get a closer inspection. Nothing could fortify the boy for what he was about to find next. The whole room was completely torn to shreds: a vase had smashed, books and loose papers of Wilbur’s sheet-music were scattered across the floor, a chair had been knocked over, even the drawer at the foot of the grandfather clock had been removed and abandoned on the ground.

Tommy froze out of shock, he was completely disoriented. For a fragment of a second he thought it was Wilbur who did this after their argument. But he disregarded this idea in the second that followed, realising his brother would never do that no matter how angry he got. Now that he had ruled out that possibility, the only explanation left was that someone had broken in. His suspicion was confirmed when he hurried towards the door and found the latch chain had been fractured. _Why would someone do this?,_ he thought. _Anyone could take one look at our house and know we don’t have anything valuable._

Next Tommy rushed to his brother’s room. This time he didn’t delay his entrance and barged straight in, flinging the door open with urgency. Standing over a sleeping Wilbur he almost shouted at him, “Wilbur! Wilbur, wake up! Someone’s broke in!”

Wilbur was still stirring from a deep sleep; he had stayed up half the night fretting and so he slept through half the day. He didn’t fully comprehend what Tommy just said, his words blurred together like he was submerged in water. “Tommy what do you want now?” he grumbled, presuming he was about to propose some plan B. 

“Did you hear what I just said? There’s been a break in!”

This time the words sunk in properly. Dumbfounded, Wilbur repeated, “A break in?”

“Yes! Look I’ll show you,” Tommy said before leaving the room. Wilbur scrambled out of bed and followed him into the living room. 

“ _Holy shit_. What the fuck happened in here?” Wilbur’s panic levels rose. He had half expected Tommy to be pulling his leg, but sure enough the place looked like a bombshell. 

“Clearly we’ve been robbed, Wilbur. I’m so _confused_ though, why would someone choose to steal from here out of all places?”

While darting his eyes around the scope of the room, Wilbur responded, “I don’t know. We’re so far out of town as well. Maybe that’s why though, they’d be less likely to get caught. What I don’t get is why they made such a mess. It's almost like they were looking for something specific. _Shit._ Shit, shit, shit.”

“What? What ‘ave you realised?” a concerned Tommy asked. 

Wilbur didn’t answer; he had already scurried out the room and into the kitchen.

Tommy ran after his brother and found him rattling through a cupboard drawer. Distressed, he continued his questioning, “Wilbur what’re you looking for? Tell me, I’m worried.”

Ignoring this, Wilbur carried on rooting through the cluttered cupboard. In his search he carelessly discarded useless items, throwing them aside on the floor beside him. This formed a pile consisting of: a pair of scissors, a spool of string, an old rusty compass, and a few keys. All this seemed like random junk to Tommy, _what could he possibly be trying to find?_

When he reached the far end of the cupboard Wilbur pulled out a small walnut wood box. Sighing in relief he said, “oh thank god it’s still here.”

“What is that? Just a box? What’s inside it?”

“Money. It’s where we keep all of it.”

“Money you say? So _this_ is where you’ve been hiding it,” Tommy grinned. 

“Don’t get excited, I’ll have to find a new place to keep it. You’ll never find it again,” Wilbur laughed slightly. He knew Tommy must’ve tried looking for the stash to steal from it. Phil told him he’d only hidden it there to stop Tommy getting his hands on it; the possibility of a break in was never really something that concerned him as much. 

“It’s such a shit place to hide it. Any burglar could easily find that,” Tommy pointed out.

“Well, you never found it did you?”

“Thats- thats not the point here,” Tommy said, letting out a tiny snort. It seemed things with him and Wilbur were returning to normal despite the extraordinary circumstances they were currently in. Or perhaps it was because of this situation, and they were too preoccupied with it to dwell on the events of last night. 

“You’re right though, it is a shit hiding place. That’s what's so weird. Whoever this was completely wrecked the living room but didn’t even touch the kitchen. Surely if they were looking for money they would’ve checked other rooms too. The only other explanation is they were looking for _things_. I doubt they took anything really, it looks like nothing was missing just moved around. Besides, we don’t really have any valuable possessions.”

 _Valuable possessions. Possessions. Prized possessions._ When Tommy’s mind made this connection his eyes widened in sudden realisation. All the colour drained from his face and left it a dull grey. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he spiralled.

“Tommy whats wrong?” a worrisome Wilbur asked.

“The discs! I have to check they’re still there,” Tommy responded, his voice wrought with fear.

“Hey, don’t worry I’m sure they will be. I don’t see why anyone would want to take them,” Wilbur tried to comfort his panicking brother.

“No no no, you don’t understand. I _definitely can_ think of someone who would take them,” Tommy said before promptly fleeing the room. 

Once returned to the living room Tommy made a bee-line for the bookcase in the corner. Balancing on the bottom shelf to hoist himself up (the boy was tall but the top of the case was still out of reach from the ground), he hastily grabbed the metal box. Once down from the shelf he roughly snapped open the latch. Lifting up the lid, he discovered the box _wasn’t_ empty.

Wilbur peered over his brother’s shoulder and made an audible gasp. The pair were stunned to silence.

The box wasn’t empty, but the discs were gone. 

Now something new was inside it - something Tommy hadn’t put there, nor Wilbur or Phil. The discs had been replaced with nothing but a single sealed letter.

Tommy’s heart dropped, plummeting like it leaped from a soaring tower. A strong feeling of sorrow engulfed him. This was the last piece of his parents he had left, and now it was gone.

He managed to pull himself out of his state of consternation just enough to pick up the letter. Tommy was still shook up but his curiosity got the better of him. He flipped over the envelope and glared at the emerald seal on the back. It had a picture of a castle ingrained in it. He knew exactly where it was from.

The boy aggressively ripped open the seal and tore out the letter. Then he quickly but thoroughly read the green, scratchy writing:

_You wanted to take away something from my war, so I took your prized possessions. If you try anything again, the discs burn. Be careful what you reveal to people Tommy._

For a brief moment the two boys stood fixating on these words. They both stared so intensely at them, as if doing so would change the ink into something more digestible. Breaking free from this trance Wilbur said, “Tommy what the _fuck_ happened yesterday?”

Tommy froze for a second, very carefully mulling over his next words. He wanted so desperately to lie to Wilbur. There was nothing he hated more than the thought of disappointing his brother again. He opened his mouth to fabricate a false story, but the rational fragment of him withheld his lies. Instead for once in his life he told the full truth, recalling the entire conversation with Dream as accurately as he could remember.

When Tommy finished his explanation all Wilbur could manage to say was, “Jesus Christ Tommy that’s a lot.” Then he sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead, “how the fuck did you get into all this mess? You never cease to amaze me.” The tone he spoke in wasn’t anywhere near as harsh and venomous as it had been the day before. More than anything he just sounded tired, and that he was. 

“Are you disappointed in me Wilbur?” A feeble voice spoke. Tommy was tired too.

Wilbur paused. He was of course disappointed, but he looked into Tommy’s troubled blue eyes and couldn’t bring himself to say it. There was also a small part of him that was proud of his brother; it was undeniable that the way he stood up to the king was incredibly brave. He answered the question, half truthfully half lying, “no I’m not disappointed, you’ve done it now. I’m going to fix it though, I’ll find a solution and I’ll get the discs back. Listen to me very carefully though Tommy, do _not_ go see Dream again. Let me sort this one on my own, please stay out of it. Promise me that, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Good.”

By the time their conversation came to a close it was almost sundown. The day went by in a flash, and usually they would be preparing supper by this time. However, there seemed to be no place for mundane tasks when they were both so exhausted. The two brothers came to a mutual agreement that supper should be cancelled, deciding there was no point if neither of them had the motivation nor appetite for it.

After sitting in silence for a short while Tommy excused himself, “I think I’m gonna go upstairs to think. See you in the morning big man.”

Wilbur gave him a weak smile and then he left to his room. Once upstairs, Tommy flung himself onto his bed. He was angry, far too angry to just ignore his emotions. He badly wanted to be sensible just for once and do what Wilbur said. But Tommy wasn’t one to accept his fate, no matter how inescapable it may seem. He also wasn’t one to think logically with his mind, he thought passionately with his heart. Right now his heart told him not to let Dream have his disgusting, foul hands on his discs for a second longer. Tommy knew he should listen to Wilbur, he knew that was the right thing to do. But his fiery devotion sometimes drove him to do the wrong thing, and he couldn’t hold himself back.

The boy scuttled across his bed towards the window. He struck a match and ignited his candle. This time Tubbo’s attention was caught immediately and he waited for his friend’s signal. They had a final sequence in their secret code, four flickers meaning: _“emergency. Come now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy never listening really is starting to become a common theme here
> 
> As usual thanks to everyone who's keeping up with the story! Kudos and comments would really help me out and they mean a lot :)


	8. The Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Tubbo go on a mission to retrieve the discs.

“The discs are gone?” Tubbo asked.

The two friends were sitting outside in the desertedness of the night, perched on the edge of Tommy's porch. Soft yellow light streamed out through the window. The source of this light was a candle on the living room coffee table. It burned long after Wilbur had lit it.

“Yes. Keep up Tubbo,” Tommy sighed. He had just spent the last ten minutes summarising the events of his day. 

“So… Dream took them? How do you know it was him?” Tubbo questioned.

In response Tommy pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and began reading it to him. As Tubbo listened carefully a spark of rage flickered in his eyes. Tommy took note of this and smirked. In that moment he knew his friend would be in on the mission he was about to propose. 

“Right, here’s what we do. We sneak into the castle and we get the discs back without him even knowing we’ve been there. If we’re really stealthy we won’t get caught. I’d face him straight on but something tells me that didn’t work out well the first time.”

Tubbo took a brief moment to weigh up Tommy’s plan before slowly nodding. “Okay, I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help you get them back. I know how much those discs mean to you.”

“Great, lets go now then yeah?”

“Right now? Really?” Tubbo thought they were maybe rushing into it a bit quickly.

“Yeah, why not? Now’s the best time for it. It’s night so it’ll be much easier to get in the castle, and I can sneak out without Wilbur knowing.”

“Wilbur doesn’t know about this?”

“No of course not. He said he was gonna sort it out himself. I can’t wait for that though, I need the discs back _now_.”

Tubbo wanted to object, and suggest that maybe Wilbur would be better at dealing with it. But he knew Tommy well enough to know when he had his mind set on something there was no hope in trying to change it. Consequently, Tubbo agreed to set off that night.

“Okay, before we go I need to get something,” Tommy announced before disappearing to a tool shed behind the back of the house. He returned a few minutes later holding a grappling hook. A grin plastered on his face, he was proud of himself for this idea, “we can use this to climb up the wall! Now we won’t get stopped by any guards on the way.”

Tubbo eyes flitted from his friend’s face to the hook in his hand. He could just picture it now: The two of them slipping and tumbling off the wall to the ground. There was no way they could pull this off, they’d both always been so clumsy. Tubbo wasn’t exactly opposed to this idea though, it was certainly better than the alternative of being humiliated by another guard and forced to turn around. At least maybe they’d manage to get beyond the walls this time.

Having successfully secured his friend’s concordance Tommy set off along the gravel path. Tubbo followed closely behind him. Against all odds the two were rather upbeat and excited for the adventure. 

“Tubbo this is just like what we used to imagine, in’t it? Sneaking around behind field walls pretending to be on some secret mission,” Tommy pointed out. 

“I was just thinking that! It’s more fun though when it’s not real. Less of a life and death situation.”

“We’re not gonna _die_. Dream may be a scary fella but he ain’t that scary.” Heavily determined as usual, Tommy was no longer phased by Dream’s threatening note. Instead of fulfilling its purpose of shattering his hopes, all it did was rile him up even more.

“I know - I just meant it as a figure of speech. Besides we really don’t know what shit he could pull. He’s an asshole, he stole your discs when you didn’t really do anything except challenge him.”

“Maybe he’s scared of _me_. Probably hated the fact that I din’t just listen to him like everyone else does. He’s a stupid prick. What made him think he can just steal my shit? It’s a shame we won’t get to see the look on his face when he finds we’ve taken the discs back. I’d pay anything just to laugh at that bastard in person,” Tommy said boldly. 

Giggling slightly, Tubbo responded, “yeah that’d be so great.”

“It would, wouldn’t it? Maybe one day we’ll get to. He makes me so angry, Tubbo. I hated it yesterday when he just kept laughing at me and trying to mess with my head.”

“Yeah, you really were right about him being heartless. I’m still shocked about the letter though. I knew he seemed like a bad guy when we spoke to him but I didn’t think he’d go that far. Oh I forgot to ask, did Wilbur see the letter? Have you told him what happened?”

“Yeah he saw it,” Tommy sighed. “He found out about us seeing Dream too. Turns out he knew all day, that bitch Jack Manifold snitched on us. We fell out yesterday as well.”

“Really? What happened?” Tubbo asked, turning to look at his friend. He was concerned for him. He knew how much arguing with Wilbur took a toll on him.

“Well he got really mad at me for lying to him. But I just didn’t wanna disappoint him. Also I may have mocked him a bit but then he said some awful stuff. I don’t really wanna talk about it though Tubbo. I think things will be fine so long as we get these discs back without causing more problems with Dream. Then Wilbur shouldn’t have any reason to be mad anymore ‘cos I’ll have saved him the trouble of having to do it himself.”

Tommy’s confident attitude was genuine for the most part, but suppressed in the clandestine quarters of his mind was a growing sense of unsteadiness. This gnawing feeling ate away at his arrogance bit by bit. Tommy’s budding anxiousness didn’t stem from fear of Dream or the mission, but rather the thought of it falling through and him disappointing Wilbur again. Afterall, he had already gone against his promise.

As the two walked through the desolate town the night grew colder and quieter. Shivering, Tommy began to realise he was severely underdressed in his t-shirt and shorts. He pulled out a pantone green bandana from his pocket and tied it around his neck for warmth. It was a gift from Tubbo for his thirteenth birthday.

The journey from the outskirts of town to the castle walls seemed to pass much quicker than it did the day prior. Tommy pinned this down to the streets being empty and Tubbo being less distracted; there were fewer obstacles this time. 

Nearing the intimidatingly high walls Tubbo gulped, “they’re taller than I remember them being Tommy.”

Shrugging, Tommy said nonchalantly, “it’ll be fine, we have the hook.” 

“Hmmm true, but that’s not much comfort though when I’m terrified of heights,” Tubbo said shakily while staring up at the wall’s parapet.

“Oh that’s right you are, I forgot about that! I’m sorry Tubbo, I didn’t really think of this,” Tommy responded, there was a hint of panic wavering in his previously steadfast voice. This worry was partly from the new diversion he faced. Now he’d have to make the decision to either send Tubbo back and persevere with the mission on his own, or cruelly force him to continue so he wouldn’t be alone. But more than that he just felt like a terrible friend, how could he forget such an important detail about him? It’s fair to say Tommy was usually rather heedless, but when it came to his best friend he never forgot anything. His tunnel vision really had clouded his mind.

Tubbo had always been scared of heights, and Tommy had known for years. He discovered this not long after they became friends when he tried to coerce him into climbing a tree. 

“Come on Tubbo! It’ll be fun,” the eight-year-old boy had shouted from a branch he was dangling from.

The other trepid young boy simply stared up at him and refused to budge. For that reason they spent many summers where Tubbo sat at the foot of the tree, and Tommy called down to him from above. 

Now Tommy recognised that same look of pure fear he saw coloured on his friend’s face six years ago. He could tell he was trying to mask it but it still shone through his glass eyes nevertheless. He couldn’t make him continue, so he took a deep breath and said, “Tubbo you can go back home, I’ll go in by myself.”

“No. I’m going to do it, pass me the hook,” Tubbo demanded whilst holding out his palms. Unlike Tommy’s, this sudden confidence was not at all genuine, but he didn’t want to leave his friend stranded. 

“No no no don’t do this if you don’t wanna. I’ll be fine on my own, I promise,” Tommy assured.

“You won’t, you’re gonna get caught Tommy. At least if we both go in we’ll go down together. Can’t have you getting thrown in jail alone, then who will I be friends with while you’re locked up?” Tubbo laughed to ease his nerves.

Tommy rolled his eyes at him, “oh shut up, I’m not gonna get caught! But if you insist on staying then you can. You better not spend two hours getting yourself ready to climb though.” He pretended to be unruffled, and not care if Tubbo continued with the mission or not, but inside he felt an intense wave of relief wash over him. Tommy was incredibly determined so he would’ve carried on either way, but he really enjoyed his friend’s company and the thought of conquering the castle alone scared him. 

Holding out a shaky hand Tubbo said, “Alright, pass me the hook.”

“No, I’ll go first. Then I can help you up if you need it. Also I can hold the hook in place so the rope doesn’t fall.”

“It might- it might do that?” Tubbo asked nervously.

“Do what? Fall? Well yeah, the blades aren’t that sharp so it won’t like pierce into the stone, it’ll only hook onto it. It’s gonna be fine though don’t worry. Like I said I can hold it down for you,” Tommy reassured. 

Tubbo gulped down the swelling lump in his throat and said, “aren’t you scared you’re gonna fall yourself though? Who’s gonna hold it down for _you_?”

“Tubbo I’ll be okay. I know what I’m doing, I’ve done shit like this before remember?”

Tubbo remembered alright, a few years ago his friend had used it to climb up the side of his house and walk the ridgepole. He also remembered Tommy falling off the roof after taking two steps along the pole and breaking his ankle. He was bed bound for weeks after that, and he became such a grumpy pain to deal with. “Yeah, that didn’t go well though did it?” Tubbo pointed out.

“I got up the house din’t I? And I’m not gonna try balancing on no pole this time,” Tommy stated before proceeding to swing the rope towards the top of the wall. It took three swings before he got the hook to lodge between two bricks on the parapet. “Okay I’m going up,” He announced, then turned towards Tubbo and gave him a firm nod. He grabbed onto the rope and mounted himself on the wall. Tommy certainly wasn’t strong, but he was very nimble so he just about managed to climb up. While he did so he clutched the rope so tightly it burned his hands. Having victoriously managed to reach the summit, Tommy stood tall with pride. Grinning wildly he said, “Tubbo I did it! Okay now it’s your turn, you sure you still wanna do this?”

“Positive,” he confirmed, but his ghostly pale face said the exact opposite. Tommy then instructed him to grab onto the rope and steadily climb up, which he made his best attempt to do. Tubbo successfully followed the first step of the command, clinging onto the rope for dear life. The second step was not so much of an easy task. He wobbled a lot on his way up, and his clumsy nature combined with nervousness caused him to nearly slip almost a dozen times. Despite this, he still managed to climb a good three quarters of the length almost completely unaided (besides Tommy’s guidance and securing of the hook). As Tubbo neared in on the parapet, Tommy held out his other hand and pulled him up. Exhausted, he nearly collapsed on the wall. “We did it Tommy,” he spoke breathlessly.

“We sure did!” Tommy beamed. He knew this would probably be the easiest part of the mission but it was an accomplishment nonetheless. “Right, now we need to get down, hold onto this,” Tommy said as he shoved the hook towards Tubbo. He barely gave his friend two seconds to secure his grip before he slid down the rope like a fireman’s pole to the ground. 

“Uh, Tommy, how am I gonna get down now?” Tubbo’s panicked voice asked. Clearly he couldn’t use the same method Tommy had; there would be no one to hold the hook for him.

“Shit. I really didn’t think this through,” Tommy froze for a moment before an idea spontaneously came to mind, “wait here.”

“Tommy don’t leave-” Tubbo started, but it was no use, his friend had already ran off in the direction of an orchard. He really didn’t want to wait, more than anything he wanted to be down from the wall and safely on the ground. 

Not long after, Tommy returned with a triumphant look on his face and a massive pile of leaves in his arms. He dropped the leaves into a heap on the floor. Gesturing to his makeshift safety-mat he said, “Okay, you’re probably not gonna like this idea but it’s all I could come up with. Jump into the pile,” Tommy instructed. 

“Wh-what? I can’t _jump_ , Tommy have you lost your mind?” A frenzied Tubbo responded.

“You can, I believe in you. I’m sorry you have to do this, I should’ve let you go down first. I’m really sorry Tubbo. I promise it’ll be safe though,” Tommy said apologetically. 

“You think it’ll be _safe?_ It’s at least a fifteen feet drop! You’ve gone insane.”

“The leaves will cushion your fall. I’m so confident it’ll be fine, I’ll give you a tenner if it isn’t.” Tommy thought this was a very generous deal, as he seldom parted with his money. 

Tubbo was tempted by this - he knew if Tommy was willing to put money on the line his word must be trustworthy. Trembling violently, he gradually stood up from his crouched position and said, “I guess I have no choice.”

Then Tubbo took a few seconds to compose himself before putting one unsteady, precarious foot forward. He leaped from the wall, eyes fixated on the “safety-mat” below. 

The leaves successfully cushioned most of his body. All except his right ankle, which overshot the pile by a fraction. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow. It really, really _hurts_ ,” Tubbo expressed as he grabbed onto his injury.

Tommy quickly scanned his surroundings to check if any guards heard the shouting. Luckily it didn’t appear that any had. Then he hastily bent down to help his friend. “Shit Tubbo! Is it bad?” an alarmed Tommy asked. 

“I don’t know! It hurts so much though,” Tubbo answered.

“Shit okay.” Tommy took a closer inspection and said, “it doesn’t look broken though, that’s good. It doesn’t look twisted either. Maybe it’ll just bruise. I wish we had something to bandage it with though. Oh, actually!” Tommy untied the bandana from his neck and wrapped it around Tubbo’s ankle. “There, now it’s got some support.”

Tubbo looked heavily unimpressed, “that’s not gonna do much.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” Tommy said before helping the boy to his feet. Tubbo staggered, completely unable to balance himself. Then Tommy suggested, “try walk?”

Tubbo took a few wobbly steps before he nearly fell over and Tommy had to help stabilise him. 

“I’m sorry Tommy, I dunno how I’m gonna make it up the hill.”

“It's okay, I’ll just have to support you, alright?”

Tubbo nodded in agreeance. Tommy quickly retrieved the hook from the wall by pulling the rope towards him. Then, using his free hand he picked up Tubbo’s arm and wrapped it over his shoulder. They began their trek up the hill to the castle, with Tommy practically dragging Tubbo along. The two avoided the main path - which was most likely littered with guards - in order to avert getting caught. Instead they made their own path by walking diagonally towards the castle. This meant they would intersect it from the side rather than the front where the main entrance was.

It was just now, as they headed towards it, that Tommy got a proper look at the castle. He’d seen it so many times from a distance - it was visible on the horizon from his house - but never before had he been this up close to it. Soft moonlight reflected off the cylindrical turrets, illuminating the castle with a blue tint. The structure was vast and portentous. Although a very aesthetically pleasing and intricate build, it had a distinct ominous presence - one that made Tommy’s stomach churn. He didn’t let his uneasiness show and continued to progress up the hill, still hoisting his friend over his shoulder. 

The journey to the castle was long and treacherous. Towards the end Tommy’s legs started to badly ache. He found it very tiring having to haul another person with him. Although Tommy was usually one to complain about having to put extra effort in, he daren’t utter a word about his discomfort. It was his fault Tubbo got wounded in the first place and he felt dreadfully guilty about it. In the final stretch of the hike Tubbo’s ankle pain began to ease slightly and he was able to walk without much support. His injury still hurt though, and consequently there was a limp in his walk. 

As they approached the castle it’s close proximity made it more and more intimidating. Tommy shook his head as if to shudder away his fear. It seemed to work, and his adrenaline overrode his anxiousness. 

When they reached the peak of the hill they stood before a long wall that was the side of the castle. Tommy’s original idea was to climb up to a window on one of the higher floors, but it was obvious that plan wouldn't mix well with Tubbo’s injury and he didn’t want to risk him falling a second time. Tommy looked at the stained glass window in front of him, it had a mosaic pattern of abstract shapes and criss-crossed lines. Then he eyed the hook in his hand, and he knew what to do.

Telling Tubbo his new idea he said, “okay so, we’re gonna break in the window. The ground floor might have a lot of guards but it’s our only option.”

“By break in, you don’t mean _break in_ break in right? Tommy if you smash a window someone inside is definitely gonna hear and then we’re dead.”

“If we’re lucky they might not. Do you have any better ideas?”

“No. But seriously though what’s gonna happen if a guard hears?”

A daring grin formed on Tommy’s face as he replied, “there’s only one way to find out.”

The boy took a few broad strides backwards and beckoned his friend to do the same. In the flashing movements that followed he swung the rope, propelling the hook forward which then collided with the window. Its elegant picture cracked. Splits in the glass spread rapidly from the sight of impact until they reached the edge of the frame. The window ruptured into smithereens. Shards of green, blue, and purple glass shattered all over the polished wooden floor, spilling out onto the grass outside. 

Tommy turned to look at Tubbo. There was a glimmering reflection of glass fragments in his astonished eyes. A conceited smirk crept up on Tommy’s face. He was proud of the wreckage he’d created. But then a memory emerged, plaguing his usually bulletproof conscience: _Dad_ _told me not to let you get into trouble._ For a passing second he wondered if he was really doing the right thing here. It felt like what he needed to do in the moment but now he wasn’t so sure. This worry was quickly succeeded by another one - the discs. He reminded himself to stay focused on the mission. The discs needed to be returned. 

“Let's go in,” Tommy said firmly. He was using his confidence to distract himself from the worries. 

The two boys very cautiously stepped around the mess of coloured glass as best they could. They were in the castle at last. The room they entered had an extravagant embroidered rug and lavish bed with satin sheets. It’s decor looked excessively expensive. Tommy tiptoed to the closed door, gesturing to Tubbo to follow him. He pressed against the wall so he could hide as he slowly turned the handle. Now that the door was ajar he peeked through the slit to scan the corridor.

“It’s clear. I can’t see any guards, it’s safe to go out. You can walk on your own now right?” he whispered to Tubbo. 

Tubbo nodded, not wanting to make any sound in case his friend somehow missed it and there really was someone nearby. With Tommy leading the way the two crept out the door. The hallway they entered could barely be considered a hallway; it was more of a grand rectangular room. A long velvet rug coated the floor and the walls were lined with regal paintings. The unnecessary luxury disgusted Tommy, how was it fair that Dream had all this wealth and he still wanted more? He didn’t understand why he seemed to be so set on expanding the empire when the country was already rich enough. 

Tommy and Tubbo started to shiftily sneak down the corridor. They made sure to dampen the sound of their thundering boots by taking small steps. The soft velvet floor really worked in their favour here. After very slowly travelling about ten feet down the hall they reached another door. 

“Should we see what’s inside?” Tommy asked, and Tubbo agreed.

Tommy noiselessly twisted the handle and gradually opened the door so it wouldn’t make a sound when it unlatched. Then he slunk into the room and Tubbo followed. Inside it was fairly dark, but the moon served as a weak lightsource. The room had no bed and the only significant piece of furniture besides useless decorations was a desk in the centre. 

“Do you think this is Dream’s office?” Tubbo asked in a whisper.

“It’s definitely _a_ office, but I don’t think it’s really big enough to be his main one. If it is then it's pretty shit,” Tommy responded as he headed straight for the desk. He began rummaging through it’s drawers. All he could find was a few normal everyday objects - ink bottles, quills, and stamps. He did find one peculiar item though: a porcelain white mask with eyes and a smile carved into it. 

“Come look at this Tubbo,” he called, making sure to still keep his voice down. 

Tubbo stopped searching through a chest-of-drawers and went over to the desk. Confused, he asked, “what is that? Just a mask?”

“Yeah. It’s proper funny looking though don’t you think? Like it has a really creepy smile on it. What would he have this for?”

“I dunno, yeah it is weird. Shouldn’t we keep looking though? We probably shouldn’t stay in one place too long,” Tubbo suggested.

Tommy paused for a second, still unnerved by the erie mask. Returning it to the drawer he said, “yeah you’re right. Let’s leave this room eh? Doesn’t seem like the discs are in here.” 

With that they left and went back to sneaking around the corridor. Every time they came across a new door Tommy would look to see what was inside. He checked at least ten rooms before finding one worth investigating. This room was almost at the end of the corridor, before it turned a corner. 

The medium sized room was what looked to be an armour and weaponry stash. It had a dozen Armour stands with shiny iron chest plates, leggings, and helmets hanging from each of them. Mounted on the walls were multiple display cases containing a variety of weapons. One particular case caught Tommy’s eye, it was the reason he entered the room in the first place. Tommy approached the case. This time Tubbo didn’t follow him and instead he stood in the middle of the room, completely in awe of the gleaming armour. Trapped behind the glass case was a deep brown, almost black sword. There was a hint of purple that glistened when the metal caught light. The boy had never seen a sword this colour before, as a matter of fact he had never really been this up close to any sword at all.

When Tommy finally stopped gazing at the mesmerising weapon he noticed there was a small golden plaque at the bottom of the case. Engraved in the ingot was a single word. 

“ _Nightmare_ ,” Tommy muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?” Tubbo asked, spinning round to look at Tommy.

“Oh nothing, I’m just reading this sign.”

Now standing beside Tommy, Tubbo said, “ _woah_ , that’s a _really_ cool sword.”

“Yeah it is. You wanna know what’d be even cooler though?”

“What?”

“If we stole it,” Tommy grinned impishly, “I don’t wanna leave here with just the discs. If we take this too we’ll have the upper hand.”

Tubbo grinned back at him in agreeance. A mischievous look flashed in both their eyes. Tommy gingerly lifted up the glass covering and carefully removed “nightmare”. Then he took out the black leather sheath from the bottom of the case. He slid the sword into the sheath and slung it over his shoulder. Securing the glass door in place he said, “right then, let's keep looking for the discs.”

Since the weapon room was right before a corner Tommy suggested they check the coast is clear before turning onto the next corridor. The two stealthily crossed the hallway and hid behind the wall. Tommy subtly peeped round the corner. He instantly retracted, flattening against the concrete. His eyes were wild and alarmed.

“What is it? Is there a guard?” Tubbo whispered.

“Yes,” Tommy breathed. 

Then Tubbo peaked round the corner to see for himself. Sure enough, there was a guard pacing the corridor. Luckily he was heading in the opposite direction so he didn’t see him. 

Grabbing Tubbo’s arm and pulling him back Tommy said, “don’t do that! We don’t wanna get caught.”

“Where do we go from here now?” Tubbo asked.

“Let’s wait until he turns onto the next corridor. Then we’ll keep looking. For now don’t talk til he’s out of sight.”

The next few minutes that followed were excruciatingly slow. After enough time had past Tommy edged round the corner slightly, expecting to find the corridor empty. Instead he found the guard was still there patrolling it, only this time he was facing in their direction. Panicking, his heart rate elevated exponentially.

“Shit! Tubbo he’s coming towards us! Quick, hide in here!” he whisper-shouted. Then he dashed a few feet towards the nearest room and hastily opened the door. There wasn’t enough time to be cautious. Tubbo lagged behind, not having the ability to run due to his injury. “Hurry!” Tommy mouthed to him. When he reached the door the two scrambled into the room. Tommy swiftly scanned his surroundings for a place to hide. “Under the bed!” he said frantically.

The two boys quickly crawled under the bed and laid low. They both set their distressed eyes on the open door before them - caught up in the rush they forgot to close it. Tommy’s uneasiness caused him to clutch tightly onto the grappling hook in his hand.

The sound of plodding footsteps grew louder and louder. Their force seemed to shake the ground beneath them. The footsteps halted. From under the bed the two boys saw a pair of boots in the doorway. Simultaneously, they raised their gaze to look at the guard. _This is it, it’s all over,_ Tommy thought. But to his great relief the guard began turning his back on them. Perhaps the room was too dark for him to see anything. Just as he was leaving, Tubbo shifted his ankle slightly and accidentally nudged Tommy’s leg. So tense, he jumped out of reflex and released the hook from his grasp. The clanking metal collided with the hard-wood floor and made a resounding clatter. Utterly stunned, the guard’s glare followed the source of the sound. His eyes met with Tommy’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the longer wait for this one! it's much longer than the chapters usually are though.
> 
> hope everyone's enjoying the story, and kudos and comments are really appreciated!


	9. Treasury

The guard stood in the doorway, draped in impervious armour. He peered down at the two boys cowering under the bed. His expression was unreadable in the dark, but Tommy knew it was bitter.

Stiffly the guard commanded, “Get up. Now.”

Tommy and Tubbo shared a look of sheer terror. They both knew there was no way out of this. In the best case scenario they'd be being escorted out the building, and worst, _imprisoned_. Tommy’s last scrap of hope was that the guard may show some mercy. However, he worked for Dream - chances were slim. 

The two sheepishly clambered out from under the bed to their feet. Tommy stood eye to eye with the guard. He was mortified. It was now, as the two boys riveted their gazes at him, that they felt a sense of familiarity. 

Completely astonished, the guard furrowed his eyebrows and said, “you’re the same kids from the other day aren't you? How the _hell_ did you actually manage to get in here?” His voice was firm and sharp, but it didn’t have the same piercing tones as Dream’s. 

Shrugging, Tommy said, “it was easy really.” He tried to act casual but behind this charade he was - quite literally - shaking in his boots.

Tubbo glanced down at his ankle then gave his friend a questioning look that said _“easy? really?”_

Still in awe at them the guard commented, “you’re _insane_. What are you even here for? Still trying to talk to the king? It’s the middle of the night.”

“No, we already did that the other day in town. Didn’t go well,” Tommy said. Then he began explaining the whole situation with the discs. The boy didn’t know if this guard really wanted to know the entire story, but he did ask afterall. Strangely, he appeared to be willing to hear what he had to say and not in any urgency to throw them out. 

The guard listened intently. When Tommy finished, he said, “Dream just stole your discs? Why would he take some random kids stuff? Seems like an overreaction to me. What did you even do, just ask for your dad back?”

“Yeah exactly! Maybe I pushed him a _bit_ too far but that doesn’t mean he can just come and steal my shit. I think he’s probably scared of me and that's why he did it.”

Amused, the guard chuckled, “Dream, scared of you? Yeah nah, I definitely don’t think it’s that. You must’ve said something that really irritated him. Still he shouldn’t have used his power over a kid like that, what the _hell’s_ wrong with him.”

“He’s a bitch, that’s what’s wrong with him,” feeling slightly more relaxed now, Tommy regained his crudeness.

“Hey, watch what you say! I work for that guy you know,” the guard responded. His tone of voice didn’t sound annoyed, and instead he laughed off Tommy’s remark. He found something admirable about the boy. Perhaps it was his fearless nature. Although he seemed very insolent and nervy, it was clear he had good intentions. At the end of the day he really was just a kid who wanted to take back what had been forcefully stolen from him. Dream had broken into his home, so it was understandable for him to want to do the same. Maybe it wasn’t a _rational_ thing to do, but that didn’t mean his actions weren’t justifiable. Even though it was his job to dispose of people like this, the guard couldn’t seem to bring himself to kick them out. It was difficult to dislike someone as determined and headstrong as Tommy.

After thinking things over for a few moments the guard said, “I really don’t wanna be the one to ruin your little mission. So, I’m willing to look the other way. But I wouldn’t recommend breaking into any more castles in the future.” 

Tommy and Tubbo beamed at him in pure glee. They couldn’t believe their ears; somehow they’d been caught by a guard and still managed to wriggle their way out of the situation. 

“Thank you, so, so much!” Tommy cheered. Elated tones radiated in his voice. 

The guard gave him a subtle nod in response and turned his back on them to leave. Just as he set foot out the door Tommy blurted, “wait! Before you go, can I ask another favour? Do you have any idea where Dream might’ve hidden the discs? You must know the castle really well. Is there a room he keeps shit like this in?” We’ve been looking for ages but we haven’t gotten anywhere.”

Raising his eyebrow the guard answered, “really? Another favour? You like to push your luck don’t you.” He paused for a second before continuing, “hmmm, let me think though. I’d try the treasury, I doubt Dream would put it somewhere that predictable but it's worth a shot.”

“Okay! Thank you again so much for helping,” Tommy said with gratitude. Then he asked, “where abouts is the treasury?”

“It’s on the basement floor, just behind a library. There's a staircase to the basement next to the throne room, which is two corridors down,” the guard instructed. Then he realised something, “shit. You won’t be able to get in there though, the library’s locked.”

Eyeing a ring of keys hanging from the guard’s neck Tommy asked, “does one of those keys open it?” 

The guard crossed his arms and said in a slow, drawing tone, “perhaps. What’re you suggesting here?” Really he didn’t even have to ask; he knew exactly what Tommy was getting at.

“Maybe you could bring us there?” Tommy realised he really was pushing his luck too far this time, but it was worth a try.

Exhaling deeply, the guard paused to consider his request. He didn’t want to lose his job over helping two kids find some discs. Nevertheless, he felt pitiful towards the boys and he couldn’t crush their hopes now. Especially not after he’d just given them some new instructions that they wouldn’t even be able to follow without his key. Agreeing to help, the guard said, “okay fine, I’ll show you the way. Follow me.”

The two boys exchanged a look of thrill, grinning at each other excitedly. Then the guard led the way out the room and turned onto the same corridor he was originally patrolling. The trip from the bedroom to the staircase would’ve been a short one if it wasn’t for the fact that they had to tiptoe the whole way. Having a guard on their side didn’t mean they could stop being cautious; if anything there was more chance than ever of them being caught. This was not a case of strength in numbers. The more footsteps, the worse. However, It did certainly help to have someone guiding them, at least they weren’t still wandering around aimlessly in the dark. 

The whole journey through the hallways Tommy gabbled relentlessly at the guard. Although excited, he was still smart enough to keep his voice down. At the beginning of their conversation Tommy asked, “what’s your name by the way?”

“Sapnap. You?” The guard responded.

“Tommy, and Tubbo,” he said while nodding at his friend. Then he added brazenly, “you have such a shit name. Who calls their kid _sapnap_?”

“Hey! I help you and this is how you repay me?” 

“Well I’m just sayin, your name’s shit. Would you rather I just _lied_ to you and said it’s good?”

“Did I _ask_ what you thought of my name?” Sapnap shot back. The sarcastic tone in his voice so clear you could cut through it with a knife. 

Noticing his slight irritation, Tommy quickly changed the subject, “so _sapnap_ , how long have you been working for Dream? You don’t look that old, surely it hasn’t been like decades.”

Sapnap laughed at the age comment. It seemed a weird thing to say considering he was only nineteen. Answering the question he said, “nearly a year. I’ve been friends with him for longer than that though.”

“You’re _friends_ with that bastard?” Tommy spat. His attitude instantly shifted, the rudeness was no longer teasing and lighthearted in nature. Now he was serious.

“Yeah. We met at a duelling contest. He thought I was really good so he offered me some training. Then later he gave me this job. I know you really hate him, but he’s a good guy when you get to know him.” Sapnap explained. Although he was risking everything to help these boys, his true loyalty still laid with Dream. He didn’t like to hear people insult him after everything he’d done for him.

Screwing up his face, Tommy shot him a sceptical look. “A _good guy_? You're a fucking liar. He sent my dad to war and stole my shit,” he said defensively. 

“Okay okay, I’ll admit that was definitely unfair. But the stealing thing, it’s really unlike him to be so petty. And he didn’t used to be this obsessed with war. He probably just thinks he’s doing what’s best but got too carried away.”

“You’ve let him mess with your head. He’s a literal psycho,” Tommy accused.

“Besides, he’s always been at war. I don’t remember a time when there hasn’t been one,” Tubbo piped up.

“I mean true, but I suppose the first few wars were important. The country really _did_ need more power. But now he definitely starts some of them just for the sake of it. He needs to calm down honestly,” Sapnap admitted. 

Five years ago, when Dream inherited the throne, the country was severely impoverished. His father, his predecessor, had run the nation to the ground by losing everything to war. Dream made it his duty to fix the destruction he’d caused by expanding the empire. Under the previous ruler, those who prospered were the farming and mining communities. In recent years these industries had been neglected due to Dream’s tax increases. He became selfish with greed, and turned his back to his own people for the sake of feeding his power. Now it was the citizens who’d been run to the ground by their leader. What use was a prosperous nation if its own people never even got to set eyes on the money? Dream hadn’t really repaired the downfall his father created, and instead replaced it with his own downfall: Failure to acknowledge his community as real people. He’d become so far removed from everyone around him.

For the next few minutes they walked in quietness. It was the first time Tommy stopped for breath their entire journey. He broke the silence when he noticed Sapnap side-eyeing the sheath hanging from his shoulder. “I thought I’d come prepared,” he said, before he got the chance to ask about it.

Sapnap simply raised an eyebrow and laughed in response. He felt sure he recognised the leather sheath, but decided not to dwell on it too much. He knew if he mentioned it Tommy would probably rip his head off and it was likely just a coincidence anyway. 

Eventually, their trek came to a close as they approached the staircase to the basement. The three shuffled down the smooth stone steps, attempting to be as noiseless as possible. They couldn’t risk getting caught, not now they were so near to their destination. At the bottom of the stairs there was another long corridor, at the end of which stood a giant dark-wood door. Standing beneath the double door all three of them were overshadowed. It soared ten feet above them. Sapnap lifted the chain of keys from his neck and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, revealing a grand and regal library inside. 

Tommy and Tubbo froze. They were completely infatuated by the long, seemingly never ending rows of towering bookshelves. It looked like there was at least one copy of every book in existence stored in a single room. 

“ _Woah,_ there’s _so_ many books,” a stunned Tommy said.

“You think this is a lot? You haven’t seen the library on the second floor. This is one of the smallest ones in the castle,” Sapnap informed. Gesturing to the back of the room he continued, “anyway, you see that bookshelf at the end of the middle row? When you get to it, push it, it’s a secret door to the treasury.”

“A secret door?” Tubbo repeated, “that’s awesome.”

“Yeah it’s pretty cool. Okay, I need to go now. You shouldn’t need anymore of my help. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you’re done. Hope you manage to find those discs,” Sapnap smiled before heading back down the corridor. 

Tommy called to his back, “thank you again for helping us! I know you’re friends with Dream but you’re alright I guess.”

“Okay,” Sapnap laughed, while raising his arm in a wave. Then he disappeared from sight up the spiral staircase.

The two boys turned back towards the library. They grinned at each other then entered the room together. Tubbo strolled slowly down the hallway of shelves, marvelling at the vast and boundless book collection. Even Tommy found himself distracted by the sheer myriad of books all stored in one room. Everything was arranged in alphabetical order, with an entire row of shelves per _letter._

Tommy quickly picked up pace once he remembered his purpose. He’d become sidetracked for a moment by the impressive library. However, he was promptly snapped out of this trance and stopped dawdling. Even with their spurred strides, the hallway was so long it still took them a good few minutes to reach the end of it. 

Gazing at the bookshelf in front of him Tommy said, “let's push it together, yeah?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Tubbo glowed. Although previously apprehensive about his friend’s mission, he was now very excited. The idea of opening a secret door really made it feel like a proper mysterious quest.

They simultaneously pressed their palms against a wooden ledge and pushed with force. This caused the bookshelf to swing inwards slightly like a door, unveiling the entrance to the treasury. As the shelf creaked open and more of the room came into view, the two boys gasped in wonderment. Earlier, Tommy was disgusted by Dream’s excessive decor, but the contents of this room were just too mesmerising to feel anything but awe. 

“ _Holy shit_ ,” was all Tommy could manage to say before stepping into the treasury. His eyes flitted around the large breadth of the room, taking in every detail. The floor was a cream, sleek, polished marble and the walls matched its colour almost perfectly. To add to the lavishness, these walls were also encrusted with gold pillars and accents. What was most impressive about this treasury wasn’t the room itself though, it was the bounty of riches inside. Some of this wealth included: Stone sculptures, golden goblets and refined iron ornaments. These items were all displayed in the countless glass cases that filled the room. 

The luxury didn’t stop there though. If the corridors upstairs had a lot of paintings, then this treasury had _hordes_ of them. They absolutely plastered the walls - so much so that it was surprising any wallpaper could be seen between them. Even the ceiling was covered with them. 

Although fascinated by all of this, none of it was what really interested Tommy. He continued to scan the room until he caught a glimpse of beautifully familiar black glossy plastic. Tommy fixated on the hazy object. Sure enough there they were, in plain view; his prized possessions, his discs. The boy tunnelled towards them. He was running, and his feet hammered heavily into the ground. In this eagerness he completely forgot about staying quiet. It was lucky no one seemed to be patrolling the basement. 

The discs were resting on one of the glass cabinets, fully out in the open. This made them stand out from all the other valuables that had been locked away safely. They’d been abandoned without concern, neglectfully left to collect dust. It seemed Dream didn’t cherish the discs enough to preserve them properly. At least this made them easier to take back.

Tommy delicately lifted up the fragile discs. He took a moment to pause while gently tracing his fingers over the indentations in the plastic. Then he analysed each of them for signs of damage. Satisfied with their near pristine condition, he carefully tucked the discs under his arm. 

Turning to his friend beside him, Tommy smiled broadly, “Tubbo, _we_ did it.”

Tubbo beamed back at him, “we did it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was basically just me trying to figure out a way to get sapnap involved in the disc saga 
> 
> Again I really hope everyone's enjoying the fic so far! :)


	10. Dissonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur finds out Tommy broke the promise.

The journey back home was a challenging one, but the two boys managed to persevere through. On their way out the castle itself they, by some incredible luck, fortunately crossed paths with Sapnap again and he agreed to help them one last time. Really it wasn't an accidental chance. Sapnap had been patrolling that particular corridor in hopes he’d bump into them again. However, they didn’t know this, and although Tommy didn’t believe in any god, he made sure to thank whatever it was that brought fate on his side. 

Sapnap had shown them through a back door that led to the courtyard. Tubbo was certainly glad of this as it meant no more windows would be smashed. Once they reached the edge of the castle grounds, all that was left to do was get past the walls. This time, for obvious reasons, Tommy thought it was best if they didn’t try climbing over them. Instead he hatched a new plan - one that was somehow far more risky. His idea was to find an archway and sneak through it when a guard wasn’t looking. Tommy’s logic being so long as they didn’t pick the main entrance they’d be fine. It was a worryingly close call, but somehow the two made it past by the skin of their teeth. Now they were truly free. The mission had been a success.

On the trip to his house Tommy was still very much on edge. Although no longer physically at risk of being caught in the castle, the fearful anticipation of Wilbur’s reaction made him sick to the stomach. He wanted to cover-up this mission like he tried to last time, but he knew that wasn’t his most brilliant idea. He figured it would be easy to get back home before dawn so he wouldn’t be caught in the act. But regardless, even if he was able to hide it for now, Wilbur would have to find out eventually. There was a high possibility he still planned on going to get the discs back himself. Clearly Tommy needed to tell him he’d already done that. 

When they reached the point on the path where they usually parted ways Tommy asked, “will you come back with me? We can say you stayed over. I plan on telling Wilbur about the discs in the morning.”

“Yeah sure. Are you worried he’ll be mad?”

“No. Why would I be?” Tommy shot defensively. 

Shrugging, Tubbo answered, “because of how badly it went when he found out about the first mission.”

“You’re forgetting something very important, Tubbo, that was a _failed_ mission. This time we got what we wanted, why would he have any reason to be mad?”

“Maybe because you completely went against what he said?”

“That’s not the point, and he’ll probably forget about the promise as soon as he finds out we actually got them back. It was a stupid thing to say anyway, clearly we did the right thing since it all worked out.” 

“I dunno Tommy. I get the feeling Wilbur’s gonna be mad either way.”

“God Tubbo, have a little faith. Will you stop doubting me? I know Wilbur, and I know how to get him on my side,” Tommy said, the irritation clear in his voice. 

“Do you really believe that though?” Tubbo immediately regretted letting these words leave his mouth when he saw the seething look on Tommy’s face.

“Yes. I know for a fact he’ll be on our side once he finds out we actually pulled it off. Just, stop contradicting me for one second Tubbo.”

They approached the farmhouse just before sunrise. Tommy very slowly opened the screen door. He was well practiced at opening doors quietly; he’d been sneaking around for as long as he could walk. 

When he entered the living room, Tommy immediately noticed the candle from last night was lit. He thought this was strange - why would the wick still be burning after so long? Tommy’s heart dropped when he discovered why it was aflame. Wilbur had been waiting for him. From the sofa he glared at Tommy, his furious face made more intimidating by the candlelight. 

“ _You._ You didn’t listen,” Wilbur spat, eyeing the discs clutched in Tommy’s arms. His tone felt like piercing daggers.

“But Wilbur, let me explain-”

Cutting Tommy off, Wilbur flared-up, “no. You don’t _get_ to explain. I don’t wanna hear it. I know _exactly_ what you're gonna say anyway. First you’ll tell me you had no choice but to break the promise, then you’ll say it doesn’t matter now because you got those damn discs back. I know you Tommy. And I _know_ you thought those excuses would work. Or at the very least you made yourself believe that.”

Tubbo nudged the boy beside him and whispered, “he must be some kind of psychic.”

“Shut up Tubbo,” Tommy mumbled then he turned to Wilbur, “I don’t get it, if I didn’t get caught then what’s the problem?”

“What’s the _problem_ ? Are you fucking serious? The problem is you _promised_ me. It’s that you think you can just go out and do dangerous shit. Tommy you went missing for hours and I didn’t know where you were. If anything bad happened to you, I would _never_ have forgiven myself. But the main problem, what scares me most of all, is that you we’re willing to put your fucking life on the line for the sake of some discs.” 

“ _Some discs_? Wilbur you know more than anyone what those discs mean!” Tommy shouted frantically.

“I know they don’t mean more than your _life_ ,” Wilbur yelled louder, drowning out Tommy’s dispute. Although his voice was raised, it wasn’t steady nor strong. Waves of worry emanated from the shaky tones, hitting Tommy with a crashing torrent of guilt. 

Ignoring this uncomfortable feeling, Tommy refused to back down from his stance. He said coldly, “you wouldn’t understand Wilbur. You give up on things at the drop of a hat. Were you really ever gonna get the discs back, or did you just say that so I wouldn’t try do it myself?”

“I give up on things? You think waiting so I can sort it out properly is giving up? No, you’re the one who isn’t understanding things, you don’t know how to wait even a day before pulling some life threatening shit. Would it _kill_ you to wait one second for anything in your life?” Wilbur wrangled fiercely. 

“It sounds like you don’t know what it’s like to care about something as much as I do,” Tommy said spitefully.

Completely taken aback, Wilbur was stunned to silence. Stark hurt blazed in his brown eyes. His brows knitted together and his whole face screwed up. Dialing his voice back from a yell, he spoke solemnly, “Tommy. Why the fuck do you think I’m this angry, if not because I care about _you_?”

“No. Don’t pull this shit on me now. It’s because you’re doing what dad said, that’s why. It’s not because you actually care,” Tommy said bluntly. He didn’t really believe his own words though, he was just far too stubborn to change his attitude. Tommy had never been the best at communicating when things got too heated and right now this was especially apparent.

Sighing intensely, Wilbur pushed past him, “I can’t fucking do this. You’re not listening at all. Really it sounds like you’re the one who doesn’t care.”

The true gravity of the situation suddenly weighed down on Tommy like a dragging force. His head felt heavy with remorse and he hung it slightly. Going into the conversation, Tommy planned on trying his best to stay calm and explain his behaviour to Wilbur. He genuinely wanted to make him understand why he felt he had to go against the promise. Tommy wasn’t the sort to avoid conflict, in fact he was usually the exact opposite of that. But he really didn’t want a repeat of their last argument. However, Tommy’s original intentions were completely thrown out the window when Wilbur started accusing him. He went into full defensive mode and said everything without thinking. 

Just as Wilbur turned the handle to leave Tommy blurted out, “come on Wil, don’t do this. We can try sort this out, I promise I’ll listen-”

His words were cut short by the slam of the front door. 

-

Wilbur hoisted a hay bale. He carried it a few steps before dumping it haphazardly onto the pile he was forming. He wasn’t putting as much care into the farm work as usual, being far too distracted for organisation. Wilbur’s mind was occupied with replaying everything that happened since Phil left. He thought back to the very last words he’d said to him. Those words weren’t about the farm. They weren’t about how he needed to make them money. The last words he said to him were to take care of Tommy. In fact, that was the only responsibility he explicitly passed on to him. How was it possible for things to go _this_ badly? It had only been a few days and he’d already failed more than Phil could ever imagine.

For the next arduous hours Wilbur continued hurling the bales. The task was fatiguing and laborious, and far from his idea of fun. He didn’t think he was cut out for farmwork. To him it was much too repetitive and tiresome. 

As a kid Wilbur dreamt big. He would fantasise of being a writer, a musician, a leader. He always thought by now he would’ve started to pave his own path. To immerse himself in his true passions and revel in the beauty of being young and free and let loose in the real world. To relish the crucial years of self discovery. That precious time when you’re allowed to make mistakes, because they’re your own to make. He yearned for the chance to explore his interests, and figure out for himself what this merciless, yet fascinating life was all about. Instead it seemed he didn’t have that chance anymore. Phil would likely be gone for a few years at least, and so he had no choice but to continue his role. A drab, dreary future of backbreaking farmwork awaited him. This wasn’t the life he imagined he’d be leading at seventeen. 

By midday, Wilbur’s energy had long since depleted. Exhausting heat lingered in the flaming summer air. It suffocated him like a sauna. He caved into the pile of bales, allowing himself a moment to rest. 

After Wilbur had stormed out, Tommy and Tubbo spent the best part of their morning sitting on the porch bench. They didn’t talk about too much, though at one point Tommy noted how it was lucky Wilbur didn’t spot the stolen sword. He no doubt would’ve been in much deeper trouble had that happened. 

At around midday, Tubbo asked, “why don’t we head down to the beach? Feels like forever since we’ve been.”

Tommy didn’t immediately jump on board with this suggestion, as he wasn’t exactly in the ideal mood for a trip. But he saw no point in wasting his time sulking all day, so he eventually agreed to go. Besides, the cool sea air would make for a refreshing change.

The two boys walked the path along the cliffs. They were making their way towards the steps that lead down to the beach. The headlands were probably Tommy’s second favourite place (after Henry’s field of course). He loved the liberating feeling of being so high up. Tommy had good memories here from when he was little, of him and Wilbur racing down the path like two birds ready to take flight. His brother was always so far ahead, which was sometimes disheartening, but he still found it fun all the while. 

When they reached the top of the stone steps Tommy turned to Tubbo and grinned, “race ya down?”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he began sprinting to the bay. The soles of his boots pitter pattered quickly on the rock. He probably should’ve slowed his pace a tad, as these stairs were quite dangerous. It was a steep decline and the railing was missing from some sections. Even the stone had started to erode slightly, making the surface of the steps smooth and slippery. Tommy didn’t worry about this though, he was carefree in the moment. The gust of clean sea wind swept over his face and ran through his hair. He felt released.

Once Tommy made it to the sand he bent over breathlessly. Then he looked at the stairs and saw his friend still had about a third of the journey left. He called up to him, “Tubbo you suck!”

“Not true! I’m not that far behind!” Tubbo shouted back. When he finally reached the last step he said, “this wasn’t a fair race, the steps are too difficult for my ankle. First one to the sea!”

This time Tubbo got a head start, but it didn’t take long for his friend to overtake him. Expectedly, Tommy made it to the shore first, although not by much. When Tubbo caught up the two collapsed on the sand. Tommy turned to look at him and through his wild grin let out an uncontrollable chuckle. They fell into a fit of roaring laughter. 

Despite everything, he felt _happy_ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some actual lightheartedness in this chapter for once dsfdjf
> 
> Nearly at the end of the first act now! I haven't mentioned before but I've split this up into 2 acts and there's one more chapter in this one


	11. Serenity

In the months that followed, Tommy put his plans to bring Phil home on halt. This was a conscious decision he made, rather than a fizzling out of interest. Although admittedly the boy had been running short of ideas. 

On the surface level, these months went by rather smoothly compared to the first week after Phil’s departure. However, as a whole Tommy wouldn’t have considered them to be enjoyable. He felt him and Wilbur were drifting apart more than ever. Even though he’d started to curb his reckless behaviour, the very act of him breaking the promise still held a chasm between them. They were both incredibly stubborn, and in that sense, two sides of the same coin. Expectedly, this meant it would take a while for them to reconcile. 

Tommy spent the majority of this time outdoors with Tubbo, as he often did in the summertime. He had never liked being cooped up inside. 

On a scorching augustian day in the height of summer, the two decided to take a trip to a nearby river. It was a decision between that and the beach. They had already over-visited the beach far too many times, with it being the perfect destination for a humid day, so they settled on the river instead. 

“Tommy, do you know how to skip a pebble? I’ve never known how to and it looks fun,” Tubbo turned to his friend, who was sitting on the rock beside him.

“You _don’t_ know how to skip a pebble? Tubbo how have you been alive for 14 years and you’ve never done that,” Tommy raised an eyebrow at him.

Shrugging, Tubbo replied, “I dunno, just no one’s ever taught me how I guess.”

“Okay, I’ll show you how it’s done,” Tommy said. He cracked his knuckles in preparation and leaped up from the rock. Then he scanned the ground for a suitable pebble before selecting a smooth flat one. Tommy turned towards the golden brown waters and swung the pebble, releasing it at what he thought was just the right moment. To his dismay, it plunged straight into the water, not even skipping once. 

“Oh that’s how it's done is it?” Tubbo teased.

Looking slightly irritated Tommy spun round, “the pebble must be the wrong size, that’ll be why. I’m usually very good at this trust me.”

“Okay, if you say so Tommy,” Tubbo chuckled.

Rolling his eyes heavily, the boy started searching for a new pebble. He chose a smaller one this time and made sure to throw it harder. This only resulted in the pebble plummeting into the water with even more force than before.

“I think you might be being too aggressive with it, why don’t you try throwing it differently?” Tubbo piped up.

“Tubbo I do not need your advice. I’m the one showing _you_ how to do it,” a frustrated Tommy responded.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing a great job of showing anything if you ask me,” Tubbo laughed.

Tommy tried one more time with the pebble and got the same result. Sighing, he sat back down on the rock beside Tubbo, “skipping pebbles is a useless skill anyway.”

“What should we do now then?” Tubbo asked.

“Let’s paddle in the water,” Tommy answered before standing up again and walking back to the shore. 

The two boys proceeded to untie their shoes and take off their socks. Then they ran into the river together, completely soaking the bottom half of their shorts in the process. 

“Hey, come look at this Tubbo!” Tommy gestured towards the water.

“What is it? I don’t see anything,” Tubbo said while bending down and squinting at the river floor.

“See anything now?” Tommy asked as he splashed a wave of water into his friend’s face.

Tubbo spluttered, “Tommy what the fuck! There’s dirty water in my mouth and it tastes disgusting!” In response, Tubbo splashed Tommy back with double the force, marking the beginning of a water fight that would last the remainder of the afternoon.

In contrast, while Tommy was out doing leisurely summertime activities, Wilbur pressed on with the farmwork. Occasionally his brother would assist him, but whenever he did he ended up being too much of a nuisance. This only made his job harder so eventually Wilbur stopped asking him to help out. They were still holding a grudge against each other, so he thought spending some time apart was for the best. 

Farmwork became somewhat easier as time went on; the cooler autumn weather was far more bearable, and Wilbur seemed to be improving at the handicraft. This by no means meant he started to enjoy doing it, in fact it was quite the opposite. Wilbur grew increasingly envious of his brother’s freedom. He knew Tommy was the younger one, but it still didn’t seem fair that he could spend these months however he wanted. He supposed he only had himself to blame though - maybe he should’ve asked his brother to help more often. 

A part of Wilbur really wished he didn’t push Tommy away so much during this time. Not only because it made his workload heavier, but mostly because he missed him. He would hate to admit it but as painfully annoying as Tommy was, his company was better than this dreaded silence. Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to resolve their differences though - not wanting to give Tommy the pride of receiving an apology. He didn’t deserve that much. Tommy was the one who betrayed his trust after all.

For as much as Wilbur spent thinking about their arguments, Tommy talked about it tenfold. It got so excessive to the point where Tubbo was close to apologising to Wilbur on his friend’s behalf, just so he wouldn’t have to hear his rantings anymore. 

On one particular October day, Tommy seemed to be talking about Wilbur even more than usual. 

“I wish he’d stop ignoring me Tubbo, he’s being a sulky moron,” Tommy complained. The boy was sitting on a tree branch, calling down to his friend on a swing below. They built the swing in the summer from some old rope and a plank of wood Tommy scrounged from the shed. Without Wilbur’s help it took them several days to complete. It should’ve been a simple task really, but neither of them had an ounce of DIY skills. 

“Tommy please for the love of god just apologise to him, it might get sorted then,” Tubbo sighed.

“Why would I apologise? Sure I said some shit I regret but he’s said stuff that’s upset me too. And then now he barely even speaks to me. I’m not gonna say sorry first,” Tommy refused.

“I mean suit yourself, but it’s just gonna carry on like this if you don’t.”

“Maybe you’re right…” Tommy admitted, “I think I’ll just wait and see what happens though.”

After a few minutes went by, Tubbo spoke again, “Isn’t it his birthday next month? You’re still gonna do something for that right?”

“Yeah of course. I’ll probably make him a present and cake. Then the three of us can maybe play some games to celebrate. It’s no big plan but there’s not much else I can do really.”

Smiling, Tubbo replied, “that’ll be nice.”

Autumn quickly flew by and before they knew it winter was looming over them. It had been four months since Tommy’s mission to the castle. Over these months, the conflict with Dream appeared to have dissipated. Strangely, he never came back for the discs or the sword. Tommy could only hope this was because he didn’t notice they were missing. Even he knew that would be too good to be true though, and it was more likely he would strike back eventually. 

Wilbur wasn’t looking forward to the promise of winter. Cold days and long nights were far from ideal for farming. He did however like the thought of snow. As much as it would stunt crop flourishment, there was something so comforting about it. It reminded him of good memories. Snowball fights with Tommy, crisp early morning walks in the untouched snow, sneaking out in the dead of the night to build snowmen and make snow angels - hoping to god they wouldn’t get caught. Wilbur missed that. He missed the childhood naivety he once had. He missed being close with Tommy. 

The first frost came early this year, and soon followed the first snow. It fell at dusk on a mid november night. Wilbur was washing up after supper when he caught a glimpse of the soft snow drifting from the sky. He immediately abandoned the dishes and hastily threw on his hat, scarf, and long brown trench coat. Then he went outside and stood just a few feet in front of the porch, letting the fresh snow fall on his head and numb his palms. 

Wilbur stood there for a while - he lost all awareness of the passing of time. The tranquil and desolate night air inevitably made his mind wander. _Maybe Tommy had the right idea all along_ , he thought. They couldn’t keep going on like this, Phil needed to come home. He’d be able to fix everything. He always did. 

Crunching footsteps snapped Wilbur out of his vacant trance. Turning round he smiled meekly, “hey Tommy.”

“Hey…” Tommy said softly. His voice didn’t have its usual impish spark. It was calmer than normal, but he sounded sad. The boy had a lot on his mind recently. 

Tommy stood beside Wilbur and looked up towards the cloud-covered sky. Velvet crystals landed gently on his face. It was like he was slowly icing over, but in an exhilarating way. He felt both soothed and electrified. 

When Tommy eventually lowered his gaze he locked onto the far away castle. He reflected back to the day he and Tubbo conquered it. No one ever thought he’d pull that off - Wilbur didn’t, Dream certainly didn’t, and even he himself had his doubts. They all underestimated him. 

Although Tommy was glad Dream hadn’t struck back against him, he wished the conflict between them hadn’t completely withered. It only meant he was further away from bringing Phil home. He may as well be back at square one again. 

The whole evening felt oddly familiar to the day Phil left, when Tommy was stranded in this very gravel path. Only this time he wasn’t standing alone. Tommy still held out hope he could sway Wilbur. Maybe eventually they’d be able to work together. He’d admit it; without Wilbur’s help he couldn’t get Phil back. If he really wanted to, Wilbur would surely be able to think of something. He had always been good with ideas. 

The two brothers stood side by side in the strangely serene night. They were lost in their separate minds, unaware that for once in too long of a time they shared same thought. 

_We’re gonna bring him back home._

They just had to figure out how. 

**End of Act I**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a hard one to write, but it's probably the one I'm most proud of. I found it kinda difficult trying to link all the different scenes together since it takes place over several months. I'm not really sure if I like the ending tho :,)
> 
> Anyway onto act 2 next! What do you guys think of the story so far?
> 
> Also if anyone’s interested, I made a pinterest board for the fic which just shows kinda how I imagined shit when I wrote it https://pin.it/100M8Ik


	12. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Wilbur’s eighteenth birthday.

**Act II**

On the morning of Wilbur’s birthday Tommy arose early to the faint, distant sounds of bird chirping. He sprung out of bed, quickly got dressed, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Then he rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out eggs, flour, butter, sugar - all the necessary ingredients for a cake. 

“Where the fuck is it?” Tommy muttered to himself as he continued to search for one last item. Eventually he found it tucked away in the far corner of the last cupboard. It was a tin of cocoa powder, the most important ingredient. Chocolate cake was Wilbur’s favourite. 

Tommy spent the next hour struggling to figure out how to make cake mixture from memory. He refused to try to find an actual recipe, even though they undoubtedly had one somewhere in the house. Instead he resorted to just guessing the proportions of each ingredient and hoping for the best. 

The finished product certainly was _not_ the best. The sponge hardly rose at all and it more closely resembled a pancake than an actual cake. Tommy tried to salvage his creation by coating it in layers of buttercream to hide the true size of it. However, his sloppy application only ruined the cake even more. 

Around twenty minutes after Tommy finished baking there was a knock at the door and he got up to answer it. 

“Tubbo what took you so long? You said you’d be here ages ago to help make the cake,” Tommy said, slight irritation in his voice.

Laughing sheepishly Tubbo responded, “sorry, I slept in. Did you make it yet?”

“Yeah I did,” Tommy replied. Then he added proudly, “by myself.”

“Nice! Let’s see it then,” Tubbo said as he stepped inside. 

Upon entering the kitchen Tubbo keeled over in a fit of laughter. 

With a look of confusion Tommy asked, “what? What’s so funny?”

“Tommy, why does it look like _that_? What did you do to the poor thing? It looks so sad,” Tubbo said, trying his hardest not to laugh between each word. 

“Stop laughing! I spent ages on that shit. Secret recipe, by yours truly,” Tommy responded, pointing his thumb towards himself in false arrogance. 

“Did you actually use your own recipe? That explains why it’s so shit then,” Tubbo teased.

“Shut up, it isn’t that bad! Just a little small is all. I was gonna use an actual recipe but then I couldn’t be bothered looking for one so I just made it up as I went along,” Tommy admitted.

Tubbo shook his head, “this is such a disgrace to every cake ever.”

“I’m sure it’s edible,” Tommy rolled his eyes, “anyway you brought the candles right?”

“Yeah, here they are!” Tubbo said as he pulled out a handful, “I got him a present too in my other pocket.”

“Shit that reminds me! I need to sort somethin’. You put the candles in the cake, I’ll be back in a sec,” Tommy said hastily before he dashed upstairs.

Once in his room, Tommy fetched Wilbur’s present from his bedside cabinet along with some brown paper and a piece of old string. Then he very hurriedly wrapped the present and ran back to the kitchen. 

Breathlessly, the boy said, “okay, let’s go wake him up now.” 

Tommy led the way into Wilbur’s room, holding the now lit cake, and the two began singing ‘happy birthday’ at a boisterous volume far louder than necessary. 

As expected, Wilbur woke up immediately. After taking a few moments to sit upright and rub his eyes he laughed, “did you really have to wake me up so early on my birthday?”

“Yeah of course. It’s tradition!” Tommy said excitedly. Then he shoved the cake under Wilbur’s nose.

It was now, as Wilbur blew out the candles, that he got to properly marvel at the true monstrosity of this cake. Stifling back laughter, he said, “Tommy what _happened?_ ”

“Stop being mean to my cake! I think it looks decent you’re both fucking blind.”

“You are, more like. It looks like you made this blindfolded with your left foot. I’m scared I’ll fucking die of salmonella when I eat it.”

“Trust me you won’t, that shit was cooking for _so_ long.”

Raising an eyebrow, Wilbur teased, “Oh so It’s burnt as well now, is that what you’re telling me?”

Ignoring this, Tommy gestured to Tubbo to pass him the gift he was hiding behind his back, “Anyway… Here’s your present big man!” 

Genuinely surprised, Wilbur took the parcel and smiled, “can’t believe you _actually_ got me something this year.”

Being as forgetful as Tommy was, most birthday’s he would just make a lousy last minute card accompanied with the phrase, “your present is me being here.” 

Wilbur eagerly tore open the brown paper. Perplexed, he stared at the contents. It looked like a knotted heap of blue wool. Turning to look at Tommy, he asked, “what is it?”

“ _What is it_? You ungrateful prick,” Tommy said jokingly, “you haven’t even picked it up yet.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll look at it properly,” Wilbur laughed before lifting the item free from it’s wrapping. It became clear now that it was something Tommy had knitted. This didn’t make any more sense though, Tommy was far from an arts-and-crafts kind of guy. He always said he found it too fiddly and boring. Wilbur held the knitted piece, rotating it to observe from every angle. He still didn’t have the faintest idea what he was looking at. The item was almost dome shaped, but it was very lumpy and full of holes. He figured those weren’t intentional though.

“Now do you know what it is?” Tommy asked impatiently.

“Yeah sure, It’s a, um, blue dome thingy?”

“Oh shut up. It’s a hat! I spent _days_ making that so you better wear it. It’s blue as well! Matches that old scarf from Dad,” Tommy enthused. 

“Oh I see it now! Thank you Tommy, I can tell this must’ve taken you a long time. And you hate stuff like knitting.”

“You see? The things I do for you,” Tommy shook his head disapprovingly. Then he turned to Tubbo, “you said you had something too right?”

“Oh yeah I do!” Tubbo said jovially as he pulled out a frog from his pocket. 

Before Wilbur could even respond the frog leaped onto his bed. “Don’t let it on the bed!” he exclaimed. 

Tommy snorted at this - it seemed like more of a prank than a present.

“Do you not like frogs?” Tubbo questioned.

“I do, just not on my sheets,” Wilbur chuckled. 

“Fair enough,” Tubbo responded, picking the frog back up again, “do you want to name him?”

“I think you should name him.”

“Oh good cos I actually already thought of one. I was just letting you choose it to be nice since it’s your birthday. I’m thinking he looks like a Kyle. Dammit, you shouldn’t have let me name him! Now I don’t wanna give him away.”

Laughing, Wilbur said, “You can keep the frog if you want.”

“Really? Well if you’re sure,” Tubbo beamed. 

For the remainder of the morning and well into the afternoon the three played party games in the living room. Tommy’s favourite was scrabble, because he found it very amusing spelling out rude words while Wilbur tried to actually play properly. Tubbo however struggled with this game, and not long after they started it he suggested they play chess instead. 

“Ugh, do we _have_ to?” Tommy groaned.

“You just don’t wanna cos you’re bad at it,” Wilbur teased.

“Not true, I can be good if I want to, I just don’t,” Tommy huffed.

Smirking, Wilbur laid back in his chair and said, “Go on, prove to us you’re good at it then, big man Tommy.”

“Alright I will. But I better not hear no complaints when you all get absolutely destroyed.”

As expected, Tommy lost every game he played. Wilbur won a few, but only those against his brother. Tubbo was by far the most skilled - winning every round with ease.

After getting tired of chess they moved on to charades. This time they all enjoyed the game, although Wilbur did lose his patience with the other two rather quickly. While he tried to play the traditional version of charades, acting out books and songs, Tommy and Tubbo just messed around. Instead of sticking to the ‘rules’ of the game, the two thought it would be more fun doing silly, overexaggerated impressions of people. At one point Tommy did an imitation of his brother. Wilbur would never admit it, but it was fairly accurate. He really went the full mile, even going as far as to dress up in his hat and glasses.

"Hey, you can’t use props, that's cheating!” Wilbur pointed out.

Tommy completely ignored this and carried on with the impression, even long after they’d already guessed who it was. 

Wilbur interrupted again when he started doing a pretentious walk. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying,” he said. 

The afternoon gradually faded into evening and they became increasingly drowsy. It turned out back-to-back games could be quite chaotic and draining. As their enthusiasm ebbed, they became more relaxed and just sat enjoying each other’s company. It had been a good moment since they all spent time together like this. The calmness didn’t last long though before they went back to lighthearted bickering. 

“Pass me another slice of cake, one of you,” Wilbur ordered, holding out his hand idly to receive it.

“Get it yourself, you lazy shit,” Tommy refused.

“You’re nearest,” Wilbur persisted.

“Not true.”

“Pfft, It’s clearly true.”

Tommy was indeed the closest. He and Tubbo were on the sofa, and the coffee table with the cake on was only an arm’s stretch in front of them. Whereas Wilbur’s chair was several feet from it. 

“Fine, only cos it’s your birthday though,” Tommy sighed as he got up to pass him the slice.

Taking a generous bite into the sponge Wilbur pulled a bitter face, “god, I forgot how awful it tastes.”

“Yeah, I won’t lie it is disgusting Tommy,” Tubbo chuckled.

“I poured my blood, sweat and tears into that cake! I hate both of you,” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms firmly in a sulk.

“Nah, you love us really,” Wilbur grinned back.

“No I don’t. Big men like me don’t need love.”

“Shut up child, yes you do.”

“Don’t.”

“Do.”

“Okay maybe a little. Most of the time you’re dead to me though,” Tommy joked, shooting him a serious glare. Then he added, “yeah that’s right bitch, feel intimidated.”

This “intimidating” stare drove Wilbur into a roaring fit of laughter. His contagious guffaw caused the other two to join in immediately. Then between laughs he heaved, “why are you threatening me?”

“I don’t remember!” Tommy snorted. 

Eventually the laughter fizzled out and the easeful silence returned. 

After a few moments, Wilbur said contentedly, “you know, I had a lot of fun today.” Smiling warmly he added, “I’ve missed this.”

Tommy responded with a simple, “yeah, me too.” He knew he wanted to say more though, so he paused, carefully considering his next words. Then he spoke in a faltering tone, “Wilbur?”

“Yeah?”

Tommy took a deep breath and said with sincerity, “I’m sorry. For everything. I should’ve listened to you, or at least not made that promise if I wasn’t gonna keep it. You were right about the first plan. It was a dumb idea I just didn’t wanna admit it.” 

“Am I hearing this right? Did Tommy Watson just admit to being wrong?” an astonished Wilbur said. 

“Wilbur, you’re ruining the moment.”

“Yeah sorry, I’ll be serious now.” Wilbur paused before continuing; there was a lot he wanted to say. “Tommy I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I understand you were just trying to do what’s best and get dad back. Your heart’s always in the right place, Tommy, you just need to be more careful and plan things out better.”

“Yeah… you’re right. The problem is, I’m no good at that though. When I want to do something I have to do it straight away,” Tommy sighed, “Sometimes I wish I was more like you.”

Laughing slightly, Wilbur shook his head, “no you don’t. I’ve been really… I dunno, I guess useless? At the moment. I don’t know why I haven’t been able to think of any ideas.”

“Ideas for what? Music stuff?” Tommy asked.

“No - how to get dad back,” Wilbur let slip. He didn’t plan on telling Tommy he was considering this, in case he got his hopes up and then no ideas came. But he got way too caught up in the moment.

“ _Wait_ , you wanna help get him back?” Tommy said elatedly. These were the exact words he’d been waiting to hear from Wilbur since day one of Phil leaving. 

“Maybe. No, not maybe, yes. Yes I want to help. We’re gonna need to think of a much better plan though.”

“Wilbur this is great! What made you change your mind? I thought you wanted to stay out of trouble ‘cos of stuff dad said.”

“I did…” Wilbur started, before hesitating. He knew what he was about to say was going to be very difficult. His voice fell into a grave tone, “Tommy, I need you to be aware of something.”

“What?”

“So you know how I’m eighteen now? You do know… what that means right?”

“You really are a big man now?” Tommy tried to joke. But he immediately regretted it when he saw the solemn look on his brother’s face. 

Wilbur let out a very weak laugh. Then he said somberly, “Tommy… It means I’m old enough to be sent to war.”

Wilbur watched the exact moment where his brother’s face dropped. His previously enthusiastic and hopeful expression transformed into that of pure ruination. A layer of frost dulled the promising glint in his spirited eyes. 

For a moment Tommy didn’t say anything, he just stared at his brother, eyes widened and brows knitted together. How could he never have thought of this? He of course knew Wilbur was turning eighteen, but his mind didn’t connect this to the war. Just as Tommy was beginning to spiral, he stopped himself. His tenacious indignation took control. 

“No. No fucking way are you going to war as well. I won’t let that happen,” he said firmly. His eyes blazed with raw rage. Dream was _not_ going to tear their family apart for a second time. 

“I know. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll make sure of it. I don’t know how yet, but I’m not leaving you here on your own. That’s why I’ve had a change of heart. I know dad really doesn’t want us to get on anyone’s bad side, but we _need_ to stand against Dream. You were right about that.” 

Tommy sighed in relief. He felt safe in the knowledge that it would somehow all turn out fine now Wilbur was working with him. He trusted that even if his brother didn’t have a plan yet, he’d be able to think of one. Growing up Wilbur was always the one to help guide Tommy through everything, and that was why he found it so difficult when they clashed. 

Although Wilbur’s reassurance provided him some comfort, Tommy still had a lot of concerns. “But Wilbur, _how_ are we gonna stand against him? It didn’t go well at all when I tried to confront him. We can’t even try persuading him either, especially not now he has some kind of feud shit going on with me. He really just doesn’t give a fuck and he wouldn’t feel the _slightest_ bit bad about sending you to war,” Tommy said.

“We need to do something that’s a significant threat to Dream. Not a one man confrontation, something much bigger,” Wilbur paused for a second, “You know, I’ve been thinking about it, I don’t wanna just get dad out of war. I want to end this whole cycle, I just wish I knew how.”

“This whole cycle? What do you mean?” Tommy questioned.

“This fucking endless cycle of wars. They’ve been going on for generations, long before you and I were even born. And now I think it’s all just getting worse and worse under the more recent rulers,” Wilbur exhaled, “Dream drills it into people’s brains from _day fucking one_ , that their main purpose is to fight for this godforsaken country. Becoming a soldier is supposed to be the moment my whole life has been building up to. But lucky for us Tommy, those manipulative ruling tactics never worked on me. I want us to end this cycle once and for all.”

Tommy smirked slightly. This was the Wilbur he knew. The one who didn’t stop for anything to get what he wanted. Understandably, he hadn’t been himself since Phil left. Usually he was incredibly determined, even more so than his brother. After all, Wilbur was where Tommy got his dauntlessness from. 

“You said we need to do something that’s a big threat to Dream right? Surely we’re gonna need more numbers for that. Why don’t we try get more people involved? Then we can have a proper rebellion,” Tommy suggested. He felt his pulse racing. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest with thrill.

“A rebellion…” Wilbur halted as he weighed up this plan. Then an ambitious idea rose to the forefront of his mind, “actually, Tommy you might really be onto something here. What if we take it to the next level though. If we’re gonna go all out and stand against Dream, we might as well do it right.”

Wilbur’s tone switched to that of sheer, feverous passion as he said:

_“Let’s start a revolution.”_

Revolution. Tommy had never heard this word before, but it sounded like the rise of smoke and fire. 

“Do you know what that is, Tommy?”

“No…”

“It’s like a rebellion, but with a much more powerful aim - to overthrow an unjust leader. If we get enough people involved, together we can dismantle Dream’s throne.”

A smile crept up on Tommy’s face and fervor lit his eyes aflame.

Taking note of this, Wilbur asked, “so, what do you say Tommy? You in?”

“A chance to take down _Dream_? Of course I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's revolution time babey!
> 
> next chapter;
> 
> Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo make a start on the revolution.


End file.
